Lolita
by Chibi Star Vamp
Summary: Tsukiyomi Ikuto, an accomplished musician, holds a deep secret. He has become deeply infatuated with a young lady. She is lovely and has captured his heart. She is the most wondrous creature that he has ever laid his eyes on. He wants her. Badly. Craves her. Deeply. But he cannot have her. Age is not just a number.
1. Tsukiyomi Ikuto

My first _Shugo Chara!_ fan fiction! Yay! To be honest, I've wanted to write one before, but I just couldn't find the right plot. But now I have it. I hope you all like it, and don't find it disturbing. I'm trying very hard to make it as tasteful as possible. But do not let that discourage you from helping me out a bit. I want to know what you think about it in reviews. Please and thank you!

Disclaimer: I do not own the original _Shugo Chara!_ characters. I only own my own, and a little bit of the plot since it is inspired by a book.

Lolita was originally written by Vladimir Nabokov. This is my adaptation/version of it.

Summary: Tsukiyomi Ikuto, an accomplished musician, holds a deep secret. He has become deeply infatuated with a young lady of pink hair and golden eyes with white porcelain skin. She is beautiful. She is elegant. She is lovely and has captured his heart. She is the most wondrous creature that he has ever laid his eyes on. He wants her. Badly. Craves her. Deeply. But he cannot have her. Age is not just a number.

Enjoy!

* * *

.

.

.

* * *

Lolita

_**Prologue: **__**Tsukiyomi**__** Ikuto**_

***By Chibi Star Vamp***

* * *

.

.

.

* * *

"Tsukiyomi-san…"

In a simple dressing room, a man sat on a wooden stool as he gently held a black violin in his hand. The violin was made of smooth, tainted black wood and reminded him of the one that had been given to the man when he was a young lad; just barely having been able to grasp the object with his small, chubby fingers.

It was a beautiful instrument. An old, modern violin; one he had bought when he decided to go pro, and that he could no longer use that older brown modern violin that he was left with.

It was too painful to be used to play such beautiful music.

"Tsukiyomi-san…" Again the soft, timid voice sounded. But the man did not respond. He continued to polish his instrument, and make sure that the strings were tuned to perfection.

He plucked them one-by-one and listened to the low hum that they made. When he was satisfied with that, he grabbed onto his bow and began to move it gently across the strings. He frowned lightly; not approving of the sound they made all together. So he placed his bow back down on the stool next to him where his violin case was placed, and once again began to change the tune of the instrument.

The person, who had been calling out to him, frowned. Their eyes saddened as they watched the blue-haired male focus solely on the black-tainted instrument, and completely ignore their presence.

Briefly they glanced down at their hand. It was covered in a long white glove that went up to their elbow, but their eyes immediately focused on the large diamond ring, surrounded by small sapphires, on their finger. It glistened in the lighting of the room, and would make any woman proud to wear it.

But she couldn't help the frown that began to play on her features as she looked at it. _Is this… is this what the rest of my life is going to be like?_ She briefly wondered.

Biting her bottom lip, she shook her head; almost as if she wanted to force the negative thoughts out. Taking in a deep breath, she released it and then stepped inside the room. She closed the door behind her before walking in perfect posture towards the blue-haired male. Her heels the only other sound in the room besides the strumming of violin strings, as they collided with the hard wooden floor.

Finally she reached where he sat. She looked down at him for a few moments before getting enough of the nerve to place her hands gently on his shoulder; making sure that it didn't affect his arm in any way possible.

"Tsukiyomi-san…" She said once again. It surprised her when he finally looked up to acknowledge her presence. His blue hair covered some of his blue eyes, but they were not enough to hide the handsomeness of the man. He had clear, aristocratic features that would make any woman swoon. But not her. As long as she's known him, not once has she succumbed to his beauty; because to her, he was more than just a random handsome man…

"It is almost time for your performance." She said to him, softly. She then removed her hand from his shoulder and placed it on her lap, above her other gloved hand.

"Thank you for telling me." He responded in a low, cool voice; void of any emotion. Not even a small hint of gratitude for her telling him that it was almost time for his performance. No. He made sure to keep that from his voice — whether it was on purpose, or something he naturally did, she didn't know, nor did she care. All she cared about was that she had done her job and now she could leave.

The room felt as if it was trying to suffocate her with the amount of tension that was between the two of them.

"Good luck with your performance." She said softly.

"Thank you."

Then she turned to leave the room. Her heels were the only sound bouncing off the walls — that is, until she opened the door and allowed the voices and shouts of others to enter the room. When she left and closed the door, he was left with nothing but silence.

As soon as her presence was no longer in the room, he sighed. Looking down at his instrument, he moved the bow atop the strings once again before deciding that the tune was now perfect.

With that conclusion, he grabbed the violin with both hands and gently began to place it back into its case. He made sure that he was careful as he lowered it into the padded velvet. Then once his instrument was secured, he made sure that the bow was in its spot as well, before finally closing the violin case and locking it.

He then grabbed the carrying strap with his white-gloved hand, and stood from the stool. He wasted no time in walking towards the door; his low-heeled shoes softly hitting the floor.

When his free hand grasped the bronze door knob and twisted it open, he took a moment to take in a deep breath to calm whatever nerves may still be against him. Opening his blue eyes, he pushed the door open. Going through the threshold, he felt as if he was thrown into a world of chaos.

All around him, people were moving about.

He didn't know where they were headed, and he also didn't care; all he knew was that he had to get through this group of bustling people as quickly as he could, and get to the side of the stage.

So with his spine as straight as can be, he fully stepped out the room, let the door close behind him, and held onto his case tightly as he began to walk through the throng.

His ears dulled the sounds around him as instead they filled with the sound of music. He lost himself in the notes that he had written, as they played in his head the way that he wanted them to sound. It was a slow, soft beat that was a bit tragic, but beautiful nonetheless. Surely it would sound more amazing in reality, than in his imagination — he intended it to be.

"Where is he?!"

Through the boisterous, random noises, he managed to pick-up one particular voice. His eyes and ears honed in a single figure as they walked around in a circle, a clipboard in their hand and a black earpiece attached to their ear with a cord leading to a walkie-talkie, and a displeased look on their face.

"Somebody tell me where the hell he is! It's almost his turn!"

Even though he knew that the infuriated person was looking for him, he made no move to speed up. He wasn't afraid of this person. And he knew perfectly well that they were over-exaggerating. Glancing down at his watch on his free hand, he saw that there were a good ten minutes before he was meant to go on stage; he could still hear the sounds of the performers as they played and warmed the crowd.

"Where! The! Hell! Is! He?! Somebody fucking answer already! Where the hell is Ikuto?!"

"You called?" He smoothly asked as he finally got within hearing distance of the woman. Immediately she snapped her head towards the sound of his voice; allowing him to see just how fuming she currently was due to his supposed-lateness.

He didn't flinch or grow any more nervous at the way it seemed that she would rip off all his limbs and feed them to the dogs, as she stared at him. Her soulless black eyes were practically alive with fire and anger to the point where he believed that he could actually see the burning flames.

"It's about fucking time!" She exclaimed. "Where the hell have you been?" She asked.

"Preparing." He answered.

"Well you should've done it faster! I've been calling your name for the last twenty fucking minutes! You're only five minutes away from going on stage, and you can't afford to be late!" She shouted at him. He remained perfectly composed as the stage director and his manager, a woman by the name of Shi Tami, took a moment to take in a deep breath, and let it out.

Once it seemed as if she was calm, she looked back-up at him and frowned as she gave him a stern look. "Alright, listen and listen good, Ikuto," she started with a commanding and no-nonsense voice. "You are going to go up on that stage, play for forty minutes — ten of those minutes accompanied by the pianist — and then you are going to come back here, and then change, rest, eat, nap — I don't care, just do whatever the hell you need to in the half hour that you have before you go back up on stage and play with the band. Do you understand?" He gave a nod. "Good, because after that, you only have fifteen minutes to prepare yourself before going into the reception hall — I don't want any bullshit like last time you jackass. This night is going to go off as smoothly as possible and end quickly, too. Do you fucking understand?" Again, a nod. "You better…" She said in a warning tone as she narrowed her piercing black eyes at him.

They both briefly paused to hear the sound of clapping. Moments later their eyes landed on the trio of violinists as they made their way off the stage, and towards their dressing rooms. Then the announcer's voice sounded from the speakers that were stationed on nearly every corner of the building.

"**Up next we have Tsukiyomi Ikuto."**

More clapping sounded.

"That's your cue," Tami said as she wasted no time in grabbing onto his jacket sleeve and starting to drag him towards the entrance to the stage from behind the curtains. "Go out there and play like hell." She said. She gave him a shove; one that would've caused any other person to stumble clumsily onto the stage, but not him. He, having already gotten used to her less-than-friendly shoves, composed himself quickly and walked onto the stage with his head held high and his persona oozing grace and elegance.

The sound of clapping reached his ears once again as he looked out at the chair where he would be seated. It looked comfortable enough, was made of wood with a padded bottom, and there was a metal sheet music stand in front of it.

A distance away, he spotted a large grand piano. In about ten or so minutes, someone would be seated there and would be playing with him. But until those ten minutes arrive, he will be a lone figure on the stage and all eyes will be on him. He will play his songs and everyone will be focused intently on the sound of the music as it reverberated off the walls in what they expected would be a delightful experience.

And while normally this pressure would scare someone, he saw nothing of it. He was used to this type of pressure; to the point where it was quite natural to feel it.

That is why his hands didn't shake as he took a seat on the chair and began to prepare to play. He didn't gulp down his nervousness as he started to set everything; placing twenty sheets of music on the stand and opening the somewhat-book to the first page.

No.

He did everything naturally.

And finally he had his violin positioned on his body, and he placed the bow against the string, moving his arm back, playing the first note; his eyes closed and ears fully concentrated on the sound that emerged from the string-to-bow contact.

The first slow stroke turned into more and more. And soon, they were getting faster and the sound they created was becoming lovelier and lovelier.

He enjoyed the way it sounded; it did sound better than what he imagined it to be in his mind.

And as he played, a small smile formed on his face. The smile stayed there as he continued to do the one and only thing that he ever loved. His whole body set on focusing on making music; nothing but music.

After all, that was all he ever cared about.

And he used the things that he did not particularly care for, to fuel his music. To add meaning to each note that he played as the song drawled on — calling upon the emotions he felt during that experience.

* * *

"_Ikuto, this is Onagi Yayuki."_

_He looked at his father with no emotion. The same look he gave to the fairly young-looking female standing beside his father, as he introduced her to him._

"_Hello Tsukiyomi-san." She said softly, shyly._

_She seemed happy. Shy. Yet happy._

_But he could see it..._

…_In her eyes…_

"_She will be your wife." His father stated sternly; letting them know that the decision was final._

…_She was unhappy over the arrangement._

* * *

He had finished playing.

He stood there on the stage, now accompanied by the pianist, as they both shook hands and then bowed at the crowd. The applaud was loud, and emoted happiness over the music that was just heard. Then, with the same elegance and grace like before, he walked-off the stage with his violin case in hand. Only this time, the pianist walked beside him.

Once he was shielded from the view of the audience due to the curtains, he immediately heard Tami's voice as she walked-up to the duo. She grabbed onto Ikuto's sleeve and began to drag him through the crowd.

"Like I said before: do whatever the hell you need to in order to feel refreshed and ready to play with the rest of the band; you have twenty minutes and counting." Once they reached his dressing room door, she opened it and shoved him inside. "And don't fool around and do any stupid shit like last time. I've made sure that there is absolutely no alcohol in this dressing room. Good luck trying to get drunk again." She smirked with satisfaction before slamming the door shut.

He stared at it for a few moments before smelling a familiar flower-scent in the room, and looking towards the source.

There, seated on one of the black leather couches that provided a place for guests and such to rest their feet, was seated a young woman.

She was seated in a way that was comfortable with the type of dress that she wore. Her legs were crossed and her hands were resting on top of her lap. She was dressed in a beautiful silk red dress that went down to her ankles, and hugged her body in a way that was perfect. There was a slit on the left side that went up to her thigh; showing the lightly-tanned skin underneath.

Besides the slit, the dress was very simple. The straps of her dress were a little thick and surely covered the straps of her bra that laid beneath them. The neckline was flat and didn't cave in to show her bosom, or anything.

Around her neck was a simple necklace; a small diamond ball attached to a black braided thing rope. It shined marvelously in the light. Besides that, she also wore two small diamond earrings in her ears, and a bejeweled flower clip on the right side of her dark, midnight black hair that was styled into a simple bun.

This same hair covered her entire forehead in the form of black bangs that went down to a millimeter above her bright purple eyes; framed by dark and full black eyelashes. There was no makeup on her face besides some light cherry-colored lipstick.

Finally, on her hands were white gloves that reached to her elbows. As she stood with a soft smile on her face once she finally spotted him, his eyes landed on the other diamond jewelry sitting atop one of her gloved hands; a ring that bounded the two together whether they liked it, or not.

"Hello… Tsukiyomi-san…" She said softly as she approached him with a straight spine, and yet slow, tentative steps.

"Hello, Onagi-san." He greeted back.

"That was quite a lovely piece." She said as she stood about two feet away from him. "I very much enjoyed it. I could feel the meaning that you put into each note; how close they were to your heart…" He briefly noticed the sad glint in her eyes before it disappeared as it was masked with what he knew was a certain level of fake happiness. Meaning that she was happy for him, but was still trying to desperately hide the sadness she also felt. "It was truly a masterpiece."

"Thank you." He said.

"You are welcome." She said softly. He stayed staring at her, silently, as he watched the way she looked away from him and bit down onto her cherry-red lips. He knew that it was a nervous habit of hers. He could also feel the tension that was slowly and yet surely building between them as the seconds ticked on.

Finally, he sighed and spoke. "Please excuse me, Onagi-san, but I must get ready to play once again."

"Ah, forgive me Tsukiyomi-san, I forgot that you have another performance coming up." She said as she finally looked up at him. "I hope I was not a nuisance to you… I shall take my leave. Good luck on your next performance." She gave him a sweet and yet timid smile, before beginning to move past him.

"Thank you." He replied as he turned his body to look at her. He held onto the door as she opened it, and she gave him a thankful smile before finally walking through it, and no longer being in his line-of-vision as he closed the wooden object.

He heaved a sigh as soon as the door closed.

_It's like we're still strangers to one another…_ He thought as he began to walk over to where the dresser in the room was stationed. _But it can't be helped. She doesn't want this. And neither do I…_

Taking a seat at the chair, he briefly stared into the mirror at his expression. To anyone, he would look young and healthy, and full of life. But to his eyes — that were able to see deeper into a person's expressions, including his own — he could see that he was tired.

The evening's events were slowly — and I mean, _slowly_ —drawing to a close. All that was left was the large group performance with the orchestra; with him being first violin. Once that was done, the concerto would be officially over, and the large group of people would start to exit the concert hall.

Some of them would go attend the banquet afterwards. Others would just go home. He, being as how he was one of the musicians who had played, would be forced to attend the after-concerto banquet and socialize with those that are quite well-known in the music community. Not only that, but he would also have to play the part of a devoted, loving, and caring fiancé for Onagi-san; who would also attend the banquet.

He sighed as the thought of having to put up an entire façade just to please his father, entered his mind. He really hated having to do that. Even after all these years, his father could still control him like a puppet…

It sickened him greatly.

He had tried desperately to get out from under his father's control, and yet, once he finally believed that he had finally separated himself from his family and made a name for himself, his father managed to find a way to pull him back in and make sure that there was no possible way that he could be free from his family, ever.

Only now, he had thrown an innocent female — who did not deserve to suffer as much as she currently was — into the mix. And that just made his fury burn more deeply for that man.

_He's such a monster_… He thought as she grabbed a hold of one of the cool bottles of water that were lying in a steel bucket of ice; taking place of the alcohol that Tami had told him earlier, that she made sure was nonexistent in his room. _I can't believe that he's the man my mother fell in love with… She's such a foolish woman._ Bitterly, he opened the bottled water and took a sip of the cold and refreshing liquid.

He momentarily closed his eyes as the ice-cold water slid down his throat. It did wonders on his parched esophagus as it rehydrated him.

Soon enough, the bottle was away from his lips (now half-empty, or half-full) and he was replacing the white cap.

He sighed…

_God I hope he doesn't show-up tonight._ He thought as he grabbed onto his comb that was placed on the dresser; before beginning to run it through his semi-messy hair. _What am I saying? Of _**course **_he's going to show-up tonight. He's been on my case every day for the past two months since he announced that dreadful engagement._

He couldn't help the annoyance and fury that built up in him as he thought of the way that his father has been treating him, lately.

The looks he keeps getting from the old man. The way that he's started speaking to him. It was all beginning to piss him off, and wish for the old days where his father didn't even glance in his direction, and instead focused on growing his company: a very successful talent agency that has been responsible for unleashing some of the world's greatest stars, on the world.

Not once, in the days before the engagement, had his father ever asked him how he was doing, or what his future plans were. His old man didn't even act as if he were his son…

But damn it all to hell and back if everything hadn't changed after one faithful day.

_Including_ the amount of attention his father exerted towards him. In fact, it wouldn't surprise him if he was being watched, now, as he sat in his dressing room and continued to fix his slightly disheveled appearance for his next performance; having switched from combing his hair to getting rid of the slight droplets of sweat that were rolling down his face by lightly dabbing a cool cloth against his skin.

Briefly his eyes scanned the simple dressing room. They landed on a small, black security camera that was nicely nuzzled in the lower left corner of the room. The camera had a red light that was on, signaling that, at the moment, he was being recorded. He hoped that the one looking at the footage wasn't his father, or one of his goons — but he wouldn't be surprised if it was.

"Fifteen minutes!"

It seemed that Tami was nearby because he could hear her voice — shrill and high — as she stated the amount of time that was left until the next performance.

_Fifteen minutes…_ He repeated in his mind. _I guess I should look-over the piece, once again…_ Placing the cloth down and reaching down to the side, he grabbed a hold of his violin case and placed it on top of the wooden dresser; before opening it.

His eyes landed on the top half of the case that held a stitched-in netted pouch that allowed him to place his music sheets, inside. He grabbed hold of the group of sheets that were being covered by blue paper; the title of the piece written on it. He took it out of the pouch and then placed it on the surface of the dresser, beside the case, before moving the top half of the case back so that it rested against the mirror.

Then he grabbed the blue-covered music sheets and opened to the first page. He placed the sheets against the top half of his case, and then lifted his violin from its spot in the case.

He made sure to be gentle with it as he placed his hands securely on it, and raised it from its respective spot. Then he positioned it on his body and grabbed hold of the bow. Quickly, he tuned it to the required sound — doing this immediately since he didn't write the music and knew exactly where it needed to be — and then grabbed his bow.

Looking at the white sheet scattered about with notes, he began to move the bow over the tightened strings and began to play; secretly loving how violent the piece was meant to sound.

* * *

"_Father, I am not marrying her." He told the man after studying the female beside him. He noticed how her eyes widened, but then settled down. He could spot a small sense of relief in them. So he was right. She didn't want to marry him._

"_The deal has already been struck, Ikuto," his father said in a monotone voice. "Her father has agreed to this, and so have I. Neither of you have any say in the matter."_

"_It's my life. She may not have a say in it because she's a female, but I'm a male, and I have more freedom than she does. And if I say that I'm not marrying her, then I'm not marrying her." He stated bluntly._

_His father frowned; the young lady next to him seemingly not offended by what he had just said, but growing more and more hope in her eyes as the seconds ticked by._

"_You are bound to this family whether you like it or not, and because of this, you are forced to accept this fate. You and Miss Onagi are to get married. I do not care that you are your own man; no matter how free you feel, you will always belong to this family, and you will always be burdened by your tasks and responsibilities to them. This is one of them."_

"_The papers have already been drawn-up and signed by her father and myself. You two are to marry in five months. I suggest you start getting to know each other, soon."_

_The hope in her eyes was gone; doused by his father's words. He felt bad for her. She didn't deserve this…_

_But they both knew, now, that there was no way out of it. Despite being a pompous bastard, his father was right. If the papers that legalized the deal had already been signed, not even a quick divorce after their marriage, could help them. Those contracts were always, always, always air-tight._

_They were bound together until the end of time._

* * *

The music was loud.

The audience could feel their hearts beat a little faster as the music took on a great crescendo at the most unexpected of times. Some tried to follow along and pick up the patterns, but just when they thought they had it, they were surprised when it completely changed.

Light chatter would erupt among the crowd when that happened, but would quickly dull down as the music took on a sad hue. They felt their hearts wrench as they heard the low, sweet sound of what was surely meant to be a pained heart.

He, as well, felt the emotion behind it. Briefly, he opened on eye as he looked at the music sheet quickly — memorizing what was next, like a master — before it looked up to stop on the conductor. There, standing atop of a wooden pedestal before a large wooden music stand was Onagi-san.

She was now dressed in a simple, black dress with a small white coat over it as she continued to conduct the band. Her hands were covered by short, white gloves, and in her right hand was a long, black baton with a white ball at the end. She moved her arms gracefully to the brass section, and then to where the string section was. She made sure when to signal to go higher, or lower when it came to the volume of the music. She made sure to move her hands rapidly or slowly depending on how fast she wanted them to play.

And overall, she was doing a magnificent job. There were no questions as to why she was labeled a musical prodigy, just like he had at her age. The pieces that she wrote were full of emotion, just likes his. Only hers were a bit more deeper, and a bit more untamed since she was still so young and needed a little more work when it came to writing music.

But that didn't take away from the magnificence of the piece.

He knew that if any man were set to marry her, they would be proud to have such a talented wife — but not him; for he did not want to marry her, nor did she want to marry him. They were two unfortunate souls that had been taken from their happy lives and thrown together into a forced union for the benefit of his twisted father.

Sometimes he wished that the old customs would just die, already. And it seemed that she felt the same as the piece took on a dark turn.

His hand quickly shot out to turn the page of the music sheet, and scanning the notes, he could practically see the despair that she surely had poured into the music. There was no doubt in his mind that it was over the heartbreak that she recently had to go through.

* * *

"_How old are you?" He asked her. His father was gone and the two were overlooking the garden of the house from one of the many balconies. The door behind them was shut and locked; his father forcing the two to communicate._

_He briefly studied her appearance. While he couldn't judge much of her body since it was respectfully covered, he noticed the outline and curves of her hips and breasts, and he could see the hint of pudginess on her face that make her somewhat resemble a little girl… But he doubted his father would force him to marry a young adolescent female…_

"_Twenty-four…" She responded, softly; not even raising her head to look up at him as she replied. "May I ask how old you are?" She asked._

"_Thirty-five." He responded quickly. _

_It was at his response that she finally turned her head to look up at him. "You… you do not look thirty-five, Tsukiyomi-san." She said as she studied his younger-looking face. Honestly, she had assumed that he was in his mid-twenties — around her age; maybe off by two or so years. Never would she have guessed that he was thirty-five-years-old._

_He gave her a soft smirk. "And you don't exactly look twenty-four yourself, Onagi-san," he said in a low voice. "I had thought that you were a minor." He noticed the gentle blush on her face._

"_Thank you…" She said softly. "You are… very kind… T-to be honest with you, Tsukiyomi-san, I—"_

_He cut her off._

"_I know." He said. "You took one look at my father and expected me to be the same way, right?" He stated as he looked at her. She looked away from him before nodding her head; the blush growing._

"_Forgive me, Tsukiyomi-san."_

"_No need to apologize, Onagi-san. It's only natural that one looks to the parents to get a gist of what the children are like. Thankfully for you, I am nothing like my father…"_

_He assumed her sigh was of relief._

_He didn't blame her._

_They both knew that her life would be complete and utter hell if he ended up being the spitting image of his father, in every way. But thankfully for the both of them, he was the complete opposite of that horrid man. _

_They continued to look out into the garden as more seconds ticked by. An awkward silence built-up, and he noticed how she was growing more and more tense the longer she stayed locked-up in the balcony, with him. _

_Again, he didn't blame her. _

_The situation was uncomfortable for the both of them. _

"_So…" He said after a while. The silence was finally becoming too much for him and he knew that the only way that they would get out of that balcony is if they speak a little more, learn a bit more about one another, and show his father that they had passed those awkward moments. "What were you doing before… _**this**_ was sprung-up on you?" He asked her._

_Immediately her body flinched, and locked up._

_Her hands wrapped around the thick railing of the balcony more harshly, and she bit her bottom lip. Her eyes became watery… it seemed as if she was about to cry._

"_Onagi-san?" He asked; curious as to why she suddenly made her demeanor more depressing. He could see the light shaking of her body as she held back what was surely, her tears. Why was she about to cry?_

"_I… I..." Her soft voice sounded as she continued to fight back the urge to run and hide herself in her room forever and ever. It was just too bad that she didn't know where her room now was._

"_You don't have to answer the question, if you don't want to." He told her. He didn't want to see her breakdown and cry. He absolutely hated it whenever someone began to cry for no apparent reason. But that was the thing. He didn't know whether she had a legit reason for crying, or not._

"_No… I… I will answer your question. It is only fair… it is just that… that…"_

_She took in a deep breath._

"_I finally got engaged to my childhood sweetheart… when my father told me I was to marry you…" She said softly; taking a moment to collect hers bearings once again — to make sure that she didn't break down and cry. "…I was forced to break-off the engagement not three hours after he proposed…"_

_Great._

"_What… what about you, Tsukiyomi-san? What had you been doing?" She asked. He could see her trying to build-up a wall and mask her sadness. But she was failing. Miserably. _

_So he didn't answer her question. Instead he said:_

"_I'm sorry."_

* * *

He and Onagi-san were standing side-by-side as The Press, whom had managed to find a way backstage, surrounded the two and flashed pictures of the couple; while at the same time asking questions.

"Tsukiyomi-san, how did you feel about the night's performance?"

"Tsukiyomi-san, how long did you work on that particular piece?"

"Tsukiyomi-san, I understand that your works are always inspired by the events in your life. Can you please tell us what event you used for the inspiration to tonight's music?"

He answered them as best as he could. He was a very secretive man, and did not like to give too much away, so he made sure to hide as much as he possibly could as he answered The Press' questions. His forced-fiancé did the same thing when it was time for her to be bombarded by their annoying and prying questions.

She answered. Her responses were quick and straight to the point, but still withholding the deeper details.

Finally, The Press was escorted from the area by security, and the two were free to move away from each other. He spotted the light dusting of pink on her face as she pulled on the sleeves of her white jacket; another nervous habit of hers: fumbling with her clothing.

"Good job, Tsukiyomi-san," she said after messing around with the edges of the soft material as much as she possibly could. "You did very well in the concerto. I am sure that it has made people love your music all the more." Her compliment was sweet and genuine. Despite being forced into the relationship with him, it seemed as if she was trying to make things work — if not for her benefit, than for his. He knew perfectly well what was expected from a wife in their family. Their one and only rule: to please the husband. To literally give-up all that they have in order to make their spouse happy.

It was a sick and twisted rule that completely took away all of a woman's rights, but it was one that both of their families followed as if it were their religion.

Sad. But true.

"Thank you Onagi-san. And I must say, your music was very moving. I could sense that you poured all of your emotions into it." He said. She nodded her head; her purple eyes taking on a sad glint.

"Yes… I did…" She said softly; he could see how her eyes glistened with unshed tears, once again. A moment of awkward silence then passed between them before Onagi-san cleared her throat. "Please excuse me Tsukiyomi-san, but I must go change into my evening attire. I will be sure to do so quickly and arrive in your dressing room in around ten or so minutes." She informed him.

"Please, take your time to look your best. No hurry." He said. _The banquet doesn't even officially start for a half-hour…_ Was left unspoken; except in his thoughts.

"Thank you…" She said softly. Then she quickly left his side; turning around and heading in the direction opposite from where his room was as she headed towards her own, private dressing room. Not ten seconds later, Tami was standing in front of him; in place of Onagi-san.

Taking a quick glance at her, he noticed how she seemed a little more at ease — as best as she possibly could.

"Good performance." She said to him, calmly.

"Thank you." He responded.

She scoffed. "Really? You're going to take _that_? Your ass should be offended. I said it was a _good_ performance. Not a fucking _great_ or _amazing_ or _ass-kicking_ performance, but a _good_ performance. That's nothing to be proud about — especially when it was _you _who fucking performed it. Honestly…" She muttered.

He sighed deeply. _Yep, definitely in a better mood than earlier... _

"Now hurry up and get your ass in that dressing room. There's no way in hell that you're going to the banquet in the same clothes that you performed in — only pathetic little amateur bitches do that, and while you're a bitch, you're not an _amateur_ bitch."

She began to push him in the way of his dressing room. He allowed her to; never having fought back against her pushy ways in the entire time that she was his manager — having gotten used to it immediately given her reputation in the music industry: the creator of stars, but a major she-devil. But he didn't mind. She was a great manager and helped him spread his music farther. He was close to heading to Korea and performing — the first time he'd present his music outside of Japan.

"Change." She said to him as they reached his dressing room and she shoved him inside; following him soon after. "This is the suit that you're going to be wearing." She lifted a long black bag that had a zipper running down the front. She pulled it down to show him the stunning dark blue and black suit that was underneath.

"Not black and white?" He questioned. Tami shrugged as she zipped it back up and placed it back on the couch.

"That was getting old. Besides, every male there will be dressed in black and white; you need to stand-out. It may be a simple, subtle way, but you'll still stand out. Be sure to where that silver flower." She briefly pointed to a silver-dusted rose that was held inside a plastic cylinder case; sitting on the dresser. "That'll really make you stand-out compared to those losers."

"Anything for more press, huh Tami?" He questioned. She sent him a smirk.

"Do you want to play outside of Japan or not?" She questioned.

He let out a brief laugh.

"When is that going to be, by the way?" He asked as he began to make his way over to the dresser. He placed his violin case on top of the dark-wood dresser and then headed over to where Tami had placed the dress bag on the couch.

"In a few months. All you need is another good three to five performances, and you're guaranteed to play in Korea. But of course, it'll have to be after your wedding." He sighed at the mention of that dreaded day, once again. It seemed as if not a single day could go by where his dream-killing-wedding wouldn't be mentioned. "So I'm thinking eight months — tops."

"Why eight?" He asked as he unzipped the bag and looked at the suit. The jacket and pants were black; the jacket holding large, shining silver buttons. But the dress shirt that he would be wearing was a dark blue color with grey buttons. He found that he liked it a lot better than the usual black-and-white.

"We need at least a one-month period for the news of your marriage to get out. Then, you're going to start getting interviewed on your marriage, play another concerto with her, and finally the people in Korea will come here to see you and they'll make the final decision — that'll all take place in the next seven months. They'll debate it for a month or so — during which you will work your ass off on your CD — and then we'll hear from them whether they'll let you perform in their building or not. If you do as I say, you're guaranteed to play." She stated.

"Sounds like a lot of work." He said as he began to take the clothing out of the bag as careful as he possibly could.

"Well it's necessary if you want to become an international musician. Do you or do you not want to share your music with the world?" She questioned. He paused as he held onto the hanger that the clothing was placed on. His eyes became distant as he stared at the ensemble.

"Music is all I've ever cared about…" He said as he ran his hands along the smooth texture of the black jacket. "And while I don't care if others hear it or not, I do want it to be heard."

"And that's exactly what's gonna happen." Tami said as she began to head towards the door. "Your music will be heard throughout Europe in around two or three years or so, if you manage to do a good job in Korea and get a lot of publicity. Of course, this also means that I'll have to find a translator… But whatever. We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

"Now get changed; you only have twenty minutes left before you're supposed to show-up at the banquet." She reached the doorknob to open the door but the door opened on its own.

"Uh… Shi-san, you—" Tami cut-off the stagehand, midsentence.

"What do you want?" She asked the lowly male who was clearly afraid of her. She could see it in his eyes, and sense it in the way that he seemed ready to jump out of his skin at the sight of her.

"I—I… I—" She sighed.

"Get to it already!"

"I have deliveries for Tsukiyomi-san!" The stagehand blurted out at her exclaim.

"Well don't bring them in here. Come with me." The stagehand didn't question her as to what she meant. He simply waited outside for her as she spoke to her client. "Get your ass dressed and down there before those hounds get there. Understood?"

He nodded.

"Good. I'm not putting up with any bullshit from those jackasses today, or ever." And with that said, she left the room. The door closed with a _thud_ behind her, and he let out a sigh of relief now that she was gone.

Now all he had to do was change.

* * *

"_What do you mean he can't perform?!" Tami shouted at his father as the man stopped them both from leaving the house, and going to downtown Tokyo for his concerto that night._

"_Ikuto has responsibilities to attend to, tonight."_

_She placed her hands on her hips. "And what the hell is that, exactly? Hm? What the _**fuck**_ could possibly be more important than his performance?" At the raise of her tone, his father signaled for the men in the room with them, to get closer to the young woman._

"_He has a fitting tonight."_

"_For what?!" _

"_His wedding."_

_Tami's black eyes widened._

"_What?!" She then turned to him. "What the hell?! You're getting married! Since when?" It was clear that she wasn't pleased with the news. To her, weddings always got in the way of becoming a success. There was no doubt that she was pissed that he, of all people, was suddenly getting married — especially after saying that he didn't plan to marry until he was satisfied with his music career._

"_It's arranged." He responded._

"_Oh… So this is _**your fault**_ you cold-hearted jackass!" She shouted at his father; who remained cool and calm as he sat back in his large, dark-brown leather chair._

"_What I have done is create a better future for my son."_

"_No. What you've done is completely annihilate his chances at getting what he wants. How is he supposed to do shit while trying to take care of a wife and kids?" She asked; knowing perfectly well what would be expected of him if he were to marry._

"_Shi-san, I suggest you lower your voice."_

"_And _**I **_suggest you call-off this fucked-up wedding. I'm not about to let you ruin everything that he's worked for just so you can fucking get your way." _

_His father was silent._

_._

_._

_._

"_Security."_

"_What?!" She shouted. She turned to see the men in the room coming at her. Immediately she turned back to his father with fire ablaze in her black eyes. She slammed a fist down on his wooden desk. "Your ass is gonna get it. You hear me you soulless little fucker? I'm gonna make sure you don't ruin his life; he has worked too long and too hard for you to just shit on his life like that. From here on out, I'm gonna do all I can to make sure that he continues being a musician. And you can't stop me."_

"_And from here on out, these two men will be watching you from now on; they will accompany you and my son, everywhere and anywhere. Do you understand?" His father asked._

"_Fine. I don't give a shit. Besides, I can take their asses down, anyway." She mumbled. She then shrugged out of the men's grip. "Come on." She grabbed onto his arm and began to lead him out of the room._

"_I said he has a fitting tonight."_

"_I don't give a rat's ass what you said!"_

* * *

Sure enough, when he arrived at the banquet, he immediately spotted Tami standing in the middle of his father's security men. She had a glass of wine in her hand and he was certain was more-than-pissed at the fact that her plan to get rid of the men for the night, hadn't worked.

_Maybe you should've ruined their tires instead, Tami, _he thought in his mind. _It doesn't appear that getting rid of the gas in their car, worked._ Putting on a normal, stoic face, he walked through the crowd with the same air of perfection that always surrounded him, as he made his way over to his belligerent and yet caring, manager.

"Good evening, Tami-san." The greeting did not come from him, but his forced-fiancé, Onagi-san. She was holding onto his right arm, and put a soft smile on her face to hide the sadness that always seemed to consume her, whenever she was seen in public with him. He knew. And he didn't mind.

"Oh hey Yayuki," Tami said as she greeted the young woman. "Good performance." She stated.

She gave a light shrug. "If you believe so…"

Almost immediately, Tami looked up at him. "See," she said as she lifted one of the fingers grasping her champagne glass, to point at Onagi-san. "That's the response I expected from you." He knew what she was talking about; earlier that evening when she had said that he had a _good performance_.

The edges of his lips moved up slightly. "Forgive me for disappointing you." He said. She rolled her eyes at him.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever..." She paused to gulp down the rest of her champagne. Then she handed the now-empty glass to one of his father's security guards. The large and burly man looked down at her with forest-green eyes. "Yes. I gave it to you. Now make yourself useful and get me another."

"I am not here to be your personal—"

"I know what you're here for, you ogre," she hissed back at him. "And I don't care. Now, do as I say or suffer a kick to the groin." She threatened. The man grumbled before sending a look to his companion, and leaving the group to go fetch the woman another drink.

"Anyways," Tami said not a beat after the man had arrived at where the drinks were. "We've got a lot of Press to speak to today, you two. They're currently all being held back by security, but it's only a matter of time until one of those snakes manages to find their way in here. Also, you have to speak to a few people who want to praise the two of you on all sorts of crap — including your upcoming marriage."

"Now, when that issue comes up, remember…" She paused as she looked at the remaining security guards. "Excuse you." She said.

"I am to stay with you at all—"

"Kick. To. The. Groin. And _hard_." She stated. The man moved about a little before making an excuse to leave, and heading in the same direction as his partner. She momentarily smirked. "It seems that they value their family jewels more than their jobs." She stated.

"You can use that to your advantage." He said.

"Oh don't you worry, I will." She said. Then her face lost all joking matter as she looked at the couple with a very serious expression on your face. "Now as I was saying, when they ask you on your engagement and all that shit that goes with it, remember: quick and sweet responses. Make it seem as if the both of you are as happy as you've ever been, and madly in love. No one can know the truth behind this marriage… it'll screw up both of your careers."

"We know." He responded. "Believe us, that's the last thing either of us want."

"Good…" She paused as both men returned. One of them handed her a glass, and she nodded at him before taking a sip. Then she scrunched her nose, gaining a displeasured look on her face, and looked at the man with fierce eyes. "What is this?" She asked him as she held the champagne glass — that was _not_ filled with champagne — up to his face.

"Water. It would be improper if you—"

"Save it." She said as she cut the man off. "I'm not a lightweight. Now get me some alcohol in that cup or _suffer_." She warned as she handed the glass filled with water to his counterpart, and gave him an intimidating glare.

The male heaved a sigh before walking away from the group; sharing a glance with his partner before leaving.

"Oh great…" Tami muttered as she looked behind her two clients. "Here come the sharks." They both turned to see what she was talking about. They immediately spotted a large group of people enter the room; many of them holding media equipment in one form or another.

"They're heading directly towards us." He said.

"And me without my alcohol…" Tami mumbled as she watched the group of reporters and paparazzi make a bee-line towards them. She sighed before snapping her fingers and getting the attention of her two clients. "Remember what I said: sweet and loving and all that other shit. Don't fuck this up. If they find out the real reason for why you two are marrying, your credibility in the music industry will go down the drain, and you will never perform, again."

* * *

"_Why must I marry her?" He asked his father — not a month after the man declared to him that he was to take the young Onagi girl for his bride; against their wills._

"_Ikuto, I've already told you why: it's your duty to your family."_

"_But I know that's not the whole truth," he stated as he continued to stare down at his father as the elderly man smoked on a cigar; the grotesque scent filling the small space of his study. "And if I'm being forced to go through with this, it's only fair that I learn the real reason why." _

_His father released a cloud of smoke and momentarily stayed silent as he watched it evaporate in the air._

"_How is your sister?" His father asked._

_He felt a pang of annoyance and anger enter him._

"_Don't try and change the subject, Father—" He spoke the word bitterly. "—I want to know why I'm being forced to marry her, and I want to know _**now**_."_

"_I am your father, Ikuto. You will do as I say with no questions asked. Now, do tell me how Utau is doing. I heard she has a kid — a little girl — is that true?" He didn't like the way his father had his eyes narrowed at him. "Have you seen this little girl of Utau's, Ikuto?" _

"_Why are you asking me this?" Ikuto asked. "You know I haven't seen Utau in five years, Father."_

_His father shrugged and inhaled and exhaled another grey cloud. "Do you recall seeing a little girl with her when you last saw her? Or perhaps a pregnant figure?"_

"_Why these questions?" He asked instead of answering. "Why are you so desperate to try and change the subject? What does knowing about Utau's child have to do anything with this? What does this have to do with—"_

"_Because I _**know**_, Ikuto…" His father said in a low and deep grumble as he cut him off._

"_Know…" He repeated. "Know about what?" _

_His father paused inhaling the cigar for a few moments. He watched with confused and calculating blue eyes as his father opened a drawer behind his desk, and then pulled out a black marble notebook. He was confused as to why the strange object was suddenly placed in front of him — that is, until he saw his name written on it._

_He immediately recognized the book — his private journal._

"_Where—"_

"_June fourth…" His father began as he opened the notebook to one of its many entries. "And I quote: I have made a discovery of myself. One that I did not know would need to be discovered, because I was oblivious to the fact that it existed. This… this _**disease**_… This horrid, dreaded disease that somehow sprung itself on me…"_

"_Father, how did you—"_

"_But I can no longer deny it anymore… there is no use trying to write it off as a silly, idiotic prank on my mind. My subconscious. It is plain to me now. As plain as the fact that the sky is blue and the grass is green… I—"_

* * *

The Press ate into their words as if it were the most scrumptious treat ever to be created. They absolutely loved the way the two portrayed themselves to them: two adults that were madly in love and couldn't wait until the day of their wedding.

Of course, while they managed to pull this off, it was not easy. Many of the questions that were thrown at them, they were not prepared for. Such as the question of how it was that the two came to know each other; and the events that led to his proposal to marry her. Never had they once thought about an answer to that question; because never had it once popped into their mind.

The most obvious question had managed to slip away from their minds. The most _crucial _question was left without an answer.

When it was posed, the two shared a glance.

_Who is going to answer?_ They both thought. And as The Press kept edging them to respond, he decided that he would recall the tale of their past that led to them being engaged.

"We met through my father…" He could feel the way her hands slightly tightened its grip on his arm. She was shocked that he would say that; most likely thinking that he would tell The Press the truth behind their marital status. But he simply brought her in closer; pushing her body against his side, and moving his left arm to wrap around her back and place itself snuggly on her waist. "…A few years ago. He went on a business trip and took me along; saying that it was important to have something to fall back on if your dreams never truly work-out."

And so he started the fake, made-on-the-spot tale of how he met his so-called beloved fiancé. It was a tale that was believable; he was, after all, a fellow musician and music lover. So telling them that he excused himself from the room where their fathers were speaking, to follow the sound of the music to its source, and that he spotted her and the two began to bond through notes — yes. It was quite a believable story; especially when The Press knew that they both held a great music background.

"It is because of my father, that we are now together."

"But does the age-difference bother you?" One of the reporters asked after the more-than-sufficient tale was told; having quickly scribbled it down in his notepad. "After all, you are eleven years older than Onagi-san, Tsukiyomi-san. Are you bothered that your bride-to-be is so young?"

_No. As a matter of fact, I prefer women younger than me instead of the desperate cougars that tend to be my age…_ He thought in his mind. But knowing that if he were to say that, the reporters would twist the words around and morph it into something that would surely enforce a conspiracy, he decided on using a more appropriate answer.

"No. When you fall in love, age is just a number."

* * *

"_Father, I—"_

"_Don't speak, Ikuto…" His father told him as he finished reading the entry, and closed the marble notebook. A few moments of silence passed between them as his father continued to smoke his cigar. It wasn't until he deemed it having served its purpose, and threw the object in the ashtray next to him, that he finally spoke. _

"_I should have known…" He said as he opened the longest drawer of his desk, and pulled out a large wooden box with a burned insignia in it. "Tell me, son, how did this occur?" He asked as he began to open the box with the silver key that hung from his neck._

"_I… I… cannot say…" He responded as the lid of the box hit the wooden desk with a loud _**thud**_._

"_Oh, but you will…" His father said as he looked upon his selection of cigars; categorized by brand. At his words, he frowned._

"_I don't see how it's fair that you get some answers, and I don't." He responded._

_His father glanced up at him before looking back down at his cigars. He chose one of his newer ones; not feeling that the occasion was special enough to smoke one of his older cigars. He placed it in between the fingers on his left hand, as he used his right to grasp the lighter. As he lit it, he decided that choosing one of the newer cigars was the best choice._

_What better way to toast a new beginning?_

"_Maybe not…" His father said as he placed the fire against his cigar and watched as the material began to burn. "But at the same time, I am your father and—"_

"_So? You expect me to tell you everything just because you fucked that woman?" _

"_Ikuto… language…"_

"_No. I'm not gonna stand here and watch you use the _**Father Card**_ on me. You never even cared about me until I finally became a successful musician. Don't act as if you have the right to demand such things from me; just like you didn't have the right to go into my apartment and take that—"_

"_I didn't have to invade your personal property to get this notebook…" His father said calmly as he put the lighter away and placed the cigar in his mouth. This time, he blew the smoke from his nose; something only a skilled smoker with much experience, could do. "It was delivered to me by a stranger. It seems that you had dropped it after a delightful day at the park…"_

_He flinched._

"_Never in my life would I have thought that one of my own children would turn out to be such a disgrace to society…"_

"_I am not a disgrace!"_

"_Then what are you?!" His father shouted; finally having lost his calm and patience at around the same time that he had: when he recited the entry. "Tell me, Ikuto — what the hell _**should**_ I call you if not a disgrace to society?! Do you _**know **_what I had to do in order to get that park-goer to not expose you for what you are?! No. You don't. And that it why you will repay me by marrying that girl, and getting rid of your… mental disability through her, and therapy."_

"_I am not insane." He countered; his eyes now burning with anger at his father's cruel and selfish words._

"_Of course not. Insanity would be easy to cope with. A few tablets every now and then, and you'd be able to go an entire day without others knowing that you were not mentally stable. But this… _**this **_is not the same as being insane. _**This**_ is an entirely different level… something that you must get rid of quickly if you ever wish to lead a normal life."_

"_My life is already normal…" He muttered. "There is nothing wrong with the way I live…"_

_His father blew a cloud of smoke that managed to hit him in the face. He raised a hand to wave the smoke away. But even as he did so, his father blew more and more in his direction — and he knew it was on purpose._

"_You see what you are doing now, with the smoke? That is how your life is and will forever be, Ikuto…" His father said as he blew a large cloud of smoke in his face. "You will continue to try and try to get rid of it. To be free of the smoke. But every time you feel as if you've gotten close—" More smoke. "—You'll be thrown back to square one, and your previous attempts will be deemed a failure. And it's only a matter of time before you're forced to give-in." He coughed as the smoke entered his mouth; its bitter taste entering his lungs and assaulting his tongue. "And when that happens, your career as a musician will go down the drain in a matter of seconds, and no one will look at you the same way ever again."_

"_That… that's not true…" He said as he continued to fight back the appalling taste of the cigar smoke. "My career will be the same. Even if… word did get out, that will not stop others from enjoying my music."_

"_Or so you say," his father said as he leaned back in his chair. "But remember, Ikuto, while many listen to your music because they enjoy it, almost all listen to it because before they fell in love with your music, they fell in love with you — with your image and the way that you are. Can you imagine how shattered that illusion would be once word got out that you carried an unholy mental disability?" He didn't allow him to answer. "Not only will they grow to see you as nothing but a disgusting creature, but they will start to hate your music as well. And it won't be long until you're forced to go into hiding, and are never able to write music, again."_

_He bit his bottom lip at his father's words._

"_Now, I suggest that you go to Miss Onagi and start bonding with her. After all, how are you going to make your marriage work if the two of you are nothing but strangers to one another?"_

"_No. I will not marry her." He said._

_The older man sighed._

"_You should be glad that I managed to get her for you, Ikuto." His father said. "She's a young, healthy little thing. She has a musical background like yourself, and even has a few qualities that… suit to your tastes. You're very lucky that I got to her in time — her father warned me that he suspected that a young man would be proposing to her, soon."_

"_You ruined her engagement." He hissed._

"_I did no such thing," his father responded. "If that male proposed to her on the same day that her father told her of your engagement, then that is his fault for not proposing sooner and making your engagement an unhappy occasion."_

"**We**_ don't want to be married to one another." He stated._

"_Too bad; because in four months, that's exactly what's going to happen. You two will be married. And from there, you will use her — on your wedding night and every night after that — to get rid of your sickness until all you can think about is her, her, her and not… _**them**_."_

"_You're a sick, twisted man for using her as a tool." He responded. "She doesn't deserve this hell. Why drag an innocent person into this when the overall situation has absolutely nothing to do with them?" He questioned._

_His father let out another puff of smoke. "I have my reasons."_

"_You sick son of a bitch."_

"_Watch the language, Ikuto. I'm your father, after all… and I'm also the one in custody of this." His father held up the marble notebook; he flinched and glared at the man as he held it. Almost as if he were mocking him to try and do something — something that would result in his secret getting out…_

_And as much as he wanted to prove his father wrong, he knew that the man was right._

_His life as a musician would be over, if people learned the truth._

_He doubted that he would be openly accepted in the musical community if others learned of his dark secret. He knew that people were not very open to such a thing…_

"_Now, why don't you go take Miss Onagi out to a nice dinner and get to know her a little better, hm? After all, you've got a lot of ground to cover in the four months left before your wedding."_

_He frowned as he turned around and began to exit the room; his emotions bouncing around within him in a flurry._

_He couldn't believe it._

_After managing to keep it a secret for so long, the truth was out — or at least, it was now apparent to his father. But dammit, of all the people that could've learned about it, why in God's name did it have to be his father?_

_He would've preferred it if that civilian who had found his notebook, had been the only one to learn about it._

_But no._

_The world was obviously against him since, and wanted to expose him for what he really was._

_He let out a deep sigh as he exited his father's study; the large dark wood slamming shut behind him, followed by a soft _**click**_. Leaning back on the door, he briefly pondered what he was going to do, next._

_Obviously he didn't want to get married. He held no feelings for that young woman and he believed in getting married out of love. Marrying her would make him a liar to himself._

_Not to mention that there was their careers._

_If they got married, people would expect them to have a litter of children. And with children, came great responsibility, time, and energy. How was he going to write music if he was constantly tied down by a child? He'd have to hold-off his music career until the child(ren) got to a reasonable age…_

_And who knows how long that'll take? He doubted they would be allowed to have just a single child._

_God…_

_He really hated his life, at the moment._

_But what was he supposed to do? End it? Certainly not — that was something only foolish people did, and it never solved anything. Suicide just led to more and more problems. Not even in death would he have peace._

_So no. With that, he knew that there was only one way to handle the mess that was now his life._

_He had to deal with it._

_There was no other choice._

_Because he is Tsukiyomi Ikuto and this is his life. _

* * *

.

.

.

* * *

End! That's it. I really hope that you guys enjoyed this chapter. I know that there was no mention of Amu, but I promise you that she'll show up in the next chapter. If you've heard of the story that this is inspired by, then I'm pretty sure that you know where I'm going with this — but since I am a bit of a twisted person, I couldn't help it when I decided to make this story even more fucked-up than it originally would've been. Bear with me though. I tend to do my best writing when it comes to a dark piece, and I don't want this story in any way to be disgusting and unfavorable. I'm gonna do my best to make it as tasteful as I possibly can, so that you readers can enjoy it. But those moments are a few chapters away. Until then, please review! ^^

Xoxoxo Chibi Star Vamp

P.S. Since this is the prologue, it'll be quite a while until I update and post the second chapter. :)


	2. My Sister

Hello all. I know that it's been, like, _forever _since I wrote the prologue for this, but I've come back to upload the first chapter. This basically introduces Ikuto's true love interest, Amu. And I hope, hope, _hope _that you're not mad by how I make her relationship to Ikuto, to be. But I swear, I'm gonna make everything _extremely _tasteful — I'll do my best. Anyways, please do read, and at the end, please do review. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own the original _Shugo Chara! _characters. I only own my own characters, and the use of the plot.

Lolita was originally written by Vladimir Nabokov. This is my adaptation/version of it.

Enjoy!

P.S. Time skip — one month.

* * *

.

.

.

* * *

Lolita

_**Chapter 1: My Sister**_

***By Chibi Star Vamp***

* * *

.

.

.

* * *

He was awakened that morning by his pestering father knocking harshly on his door, and then entering his room without the slightest bit respect for his personal space. It was as his father was opening his blinds, and began a soliloquy on how upsetting it was that he didn't share a bed with the Onagi Family heiress, that he slowly began to awaken.

He felt groggy.

Last night had been nothing but preparation for his forced-wedding — that would occur in around one month and a week. And because of the ever-approaching day, his father has made it his personal goal to _kick his ass into shape_, as he had put it.

In fact, it was the reason why he was in his room, in the first place, and continued to lecture him on the lack of the female.

"Honestly, I don't understand how you can stand sleeping by yourself, all the time. When I was your age, I had a female in my bed almost every night. Of course, after I married your mother, she was the only one that I shared my bed with, but I was never lonely — I always had that feminine presence lingering in my bedroom, day and night. And it's because of that very feminine presence that you and Utau were born."

He groaned lowly so that his father wouldn't hear him, and shoved his head in his pillow. Slowly he brought his sheets up to cover his head enough so that he could place his hands over his ears. His father's speech was beginning to unnerve him.

"I do hope that you get over your _illness _by your wedding night. Your mother very much wants a grandchild."

At this, he chose to respond.

Taking his head out from under the covers, and removing his hands so that they were at his side, Ikuto pushed some of his blue hair from his eyes as he responded to his father's annoying comment — one of several.

"Utau already _has _a child. I don't need to have any grandchildren. In fact, I never _will_. You can force me to marry that girl, Father, but you can't force me to consummate with her." He responded. Almost immediately, his father closed his mouth; having been ready to continue his speech.

Instead, the man gave his son a stern look, and spoke different words than he had originally planned to do. "If I have to have her artificially injected with your sperm, then so be it; the point is: you _will _have children with her, Ikuto." His father said, much to his horror. He honestly couldn't believe that the man would _do _such a thing. How far was he willing to go? "Let's just hope that they aren't born with any _defects _such as yours — and that you're over your _illness _by then…" The man murmured.

But before Ikuto could provide an angry response to his father's previous two comments, his father began to speak once again. "Now get up from that bed. You have many things to do today, Ikuto, and you can't afford to be late." He paused to look down at his watch. "You're already behind schedule — you should've been dressed by now…"

Ikuto resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Glancing at the clock placed on the nightstand to his right, he saw that it was only nine in the morning. He wasn't late at all; he was right on time for his day.

"Get up, get up! Many people are waiting for you, Ikuto, and I won't have you being a disgrace to this family." His father said just as he was removing his cobalt blue sheets from his body, and stepping into the slippers that were always placed at the side of his bed.

When he had his toes in the darkly-colored shoes, he said to his father, "The only disgrace of this family is you." He stated sharply.

His father narrowed his eyes at him.

"Hm… don't be foolish, Ikuto. Remember: your life is literally in my hands." He pulled out from the inner pocket of his suit jacket, Ikuto's private journal. The violinist's face went stoic as he spotted the object; his inner self raging with annoyance at the fact that his father decided to rub the fact that he knew his secret, in his face, once again.

Placing the book back inside his inner jacket pocket, Mr. Tsukiyomi fixed his clothing before beginning to exit the room.

"I expect you to be ready in a half hour." He said.

And with those as his final words, he silently left the room, and closed the single wooden door. As soon as his father's presence was gone, Ikuto exhaled; feeling better now that the man no longer tainted one of the few places in the large home that were his and his alone.

But it even seemed that _that _was starting to be ruled by his father. Damn that man and his persistence to control him.

He desperately, _desperately _wished that he could leave the house. But it had been made clear to him from a very young age that he was not allowed to leave the house until he was married.

Sadly, he had forgotten about that rule as his musician career began to take flight, and it wasn't until about a decade or so ago, when he tried to move-out of the large house, that he remembered that rule. And no matter how much he tried to get out of it, he was forced to stay locked in the house until he was married.

He sighed.

He hated that rule more than anything. If he was allowed to move out, he would be officially free from his family's suffocation. To be away from the house — his pathetic mother, and overbearing father…

And suddenly, he knew just what he was going to do on that day. Screw his father and his schedule. It was his wedding, wasn't it? If he wanted to cancel a day — or week — of preparations to make some room for a little free time, then he'll do just that.

* * *

When he was finally ready for the day, his father was practically ready to strangle him. After all, he had just taken about an hour or so to prepare himself for the day. And he severely doubted that his father would be happy about that, _and _the fact that he chose to carry a luggage bag with him, into the dining room.

"You're late." His father said as he entered the family dining room.

Already the large table that was there was filled with breakfast delicacies and pitchers of juice and water. His father sat at the head of the table, a large plate filled to the edges with proper breakfast food, in front of him, as well as a large glass of water and ice, set at the side. His mother sat to his father's right side, on the length of the table, with a much more simpler plate, and a glass of orange juice. And of course, since his father saw that it was important she be treated as a part of the family, already, Onagi-san sat across his mother with a few things on her plate, and a small glass of water next to her plate.

He didn't miss the extra place set next to her, on the first chair to his father's left.

He suddenly felt happy about his decision.

"I know." He responded; without even making a move to apologize for his lateness and disobedience of his father's request.

His father sighed. "Sit." He commanded while going back to eating a few of the poached eggs sprinkled with some spice, that were closest to him on the plate. But when he didn't hear his son's footsteps, he stopped consuming the items, and looked back at his son — still standing at the entrance of the family dining room. "Well?" He asked.

Swallowing back whatever feelings against his decision that may be lingering, Ikuto opened his mouth and said to the older man, "I won't be eating breakfast with you, today."

"Excuse me?" His father coolly asked. He could tell that he was controlling his temper because of the young female present.

"I won't be eating with you, today. I have to be somewhere." And to emphasize his point, he lifted his luggage bag closer to his face; showing them that he was packed for quite a long trip, since the size of the bag wasn't small in any way.

Seeing it, Mr. Tsukiyomi did his best to control himself. How could he? How could Ikuto _dare _to go on a trip now that his wedding was less than two months away? Was his son truly as selfish and foolish as he had originally believed? Didn't he know how much was at stake for him if he refused to follow his orders? Clearly this was the case considering how he had _the nerve _to pack for an unannounced trip on the same day that he was supposed to meet Miss Onagi's parents.

Mr. Tsukiyomi inhaled and exhaled deeply. This _was not _what he expected to happen, on that day. His son was being a hindrance in his own wedding. The fool…

"And where exactly will you be headed, _son_?" He asked; his tone sharp and holding hidden malice.

"I'm making a quick visit to the suburbs."

"Really? By the size of that bag, it doesn't seem like your visit will be _quick _in any way. In fact—"

"I assure you, Father, the trip won't take much time. I promise to be back by this time, next week." He would've adored it if his father had thrown a fit then and there — show Onagi-san just how much of a monster the man truly was. But instead, his father held his cool at his announcement.

"A week — you're taking a week off at a time like this?" His father instead asked.

"Yes. I'm afraid that it can't be helped." He lied smoothly. Truth-be-told, his _trip _was a last-minute decision. Visions of being free from the house had reminded him of the one place where he was not only away from his father's ever-watchful eyes, but he would also be with a person that he _tolerated_ and could spend endless amounts of time, with.

They were one of the few people who had improved his suck-ish childhood, and now was a good a time as any, to see them.

He just hoped that his bastardly father wouldn't find a way to ruin it. He wouldn't underestimate this man. He knew, from years of experience, that he would try everything in the book to get him to stay and do as he pleased. Secretly he wondered if his father was brave enough to show his journal to Onagi-san…

_I doubt he'd be willing to show his trump card to her…_ He thought.

"Are you sure? Perhaps you can postpone your trip? After all, today you do have many things to do to prepare for your wedding day, Ikuto." His father said; beginning his attempts to stop his trip.

"I know, and I'm very sorry about it, but this trip really can't be helped. If I manage to make it successful, I may have a few more potential investors." He stated.

"This is a business trip, Tsukiyomi-san?" Asked, not his father, but his forced-bride, Onagi-san.

"Yes." He said.

"In that case, you should go. I know how important your career is to you, and the last thing I want is to become an anchor." She said; much to both his and his father's surprise.

He couldn't hide the fact that he was shocked that she had said that. He expected her to remain silent throughout the entire confrontation, and only speak to greet him once the verdict had been made. But that didn't mean that he disliked the fact that she was siding with him.

It was perfect.

He knew that his father wanted nothing but to show the female that she was welcomed in the family, and taking her comments and desires into consideration was his main way of showing that. Meaning, that if she wanted him to go on his trip, his father would most likely let him…

"Are you sure, Onagi-san?" He asked as he looked directly at her. He was glad to see her nod her head.

"Yes. I do not mind if you take the week off for business, Tsukiyomi-san. Please, do have a nice and successful trip." She responded with a smile.

In that moment he knew — he knew that she had been the one to declare the final verdict. Not him, or his father, but her. She had made the decision on whether he would stay or go: go. He was allowed to go on his trip.

"Thank you." He said as he gave her a soft smile and nod of his head. "I will be sure to bring back a souvenir from my trip, for you, Onagi-san."

"How sweet and kind of you — thank you." She replied with a sweet and innocent smile. It was a smile that he would've been attracted to, had the circumstances been much, much different. But they weren't, and so all he could think of her smile was that it conveyed her emotions.

And made her decision all the more official.

"I will return in a week. Goodbye." He said. And with that, he left the family dining room.

As he walked to the front door of the house, he left behind his father's suffocating presence and strong control. He left back threats to expose him, and forced-contact between him and the young female that he was set to unwillingly marry in the next five or so weeks.

And he was glad that he was leaving it behind — because time away from his prison was _exactly _what he needed.

And as he finally reached his car, and placed both his suitcase and himself inside the vehicle, he started the machine and did just that. Driving past the gates of his house was the most refreshing feeling that he had experienced, in years.

* * *

Of course, no unannounced business trip could be complete without a quick call to his manager. Which is why, as he stopped to get some gas in his car — he had forgotten that it barely had enough to get out of city limits — he made a quick call to Tami.

"**What?"** She asked him as soon as she picked it up.

"No _hello_?" He questioned with a smirk as he stared at the amount of gallons that he was pouring into his vehicle. On the other end, Tami scoffed.

"**I don't have time for that, today. What do you want?" **She asked him. From this he determined that she was stressed about something. And a stressed Tami was not an understanding Tami. He better make the call quick.

"I just called to tell you that I won't be available for rehearsal or benefits or really anything involving music, for a week." He said to her just as he got the desired gallons in his car, and went to take the pump out of his vehicle. He heard her groan; she wasn't too happy with his decision.

"**What the hell?! Don't you **_know _**how much shit I had planned for you, this week? Did your ass forget about the fact that we're on a deadline to impress Koreans? Or do you**_ want _**to only be able to play in Japan?" **She questioned.

"There's no doubt in my mind that I want to expand my music career and make it international, but I just need some time to myself, Tami. I promise you that, once I get back, not only will I have a few new compositions for you, but I'd have perfected them and will be ready to work my hardest, to make up for the lost time." He said.

There was a pause on the other end. During which, he could vaguely hear noises, but he wasn't sure what they were.

"**Okay fine — fine! You can have your damn week off. But if you ass isn't ready to work the graveyard shift when you get back, I swear Ikuto, I will **_fucking castrate you_**!" **She screamed at him. Having been used to her threats, he chuckled.

"I promise that you won't have to do such a bloody task, Tami." He replied. "See you in a week." The call ended, and he was stepping into the driver's side of his car while putting the cellular device away in his pocket. With a now full tank, he ignited the engine of his car and was ready to pull-out of the spot at the gas station, when there was a tap against his window.

Looking to his side where the tap emerged, he found an older-looking woman peering into his car.

"Excuse me." He heard her say. "Sorry to bother you, but before you go, can I ask you something?" Nodding his head, he opened the door of his car and stepped out to speak to the woman.

"Yes?" He asked politely; not irked in any way that this woman was stopping his departure.

"By any chance, are you Tsukiyomi Ikuto?" She asked.

He nodded his head. Her response was a smile on her face and a clap of delight. "Oh I just _knew _that it was you! Might I say, Tsukiyomi-san, you are one of my _favorite _musicians! I've been a loyal fan since your first violin piece — you're a _delight_!" He gave the woman — fan — a smile.

"Thank you." He said.

"Can I have your autograph?" She asked him. Without a moment's hesitation, he nodded. The woman gave him another smile before heading to the car opposite his. He watched as she hastily grabbed something, and was back in front of him within the minute.

Looking down at what she now held in her hands, he saw that she had one of his oldest CDs, as well as a Sharpie marker.

Taking the black-ink object, he uncapped it and quickly placed his signature on the cover of his CD. "Do you want a message or your name?" He asked her.

"No. Just your name is fine — oh this is so exciting!" She said.

Finishing the signature, he capped the pen and handed it back to the woman. After a picture — of which she conveniently brought a camera for — he and the woman parted ways.

Back inside his car, he switched it to drive and left the station.

There was no way that he was going to give-up on his music career, or let anything stop him from pursing it to his fullest. His encounter with that woman reminded him of how much others loved the notes that he would play.

His music was being _heard_.

* * *

.

.

.

* * *

Residence of Souma Utau

* * *

.

.

.

* * *

When he pulled-up to the subtle neighborhood, it had been a little over three hours since he started his long trip. He had left the large buildings of the city behind, and was now in a more suburban area that held small neighborhoods and such. He didn't mind; he loved it a lot more than the hustle and bustle of city life.

Pulling-up to an all-too-familiar home, Ikuto killed his engine and took a moment to examine the cream-colored house. It was casually decorated and in perfect shape — containing white-colored window sills and doors. But he spotted barren soft-ocean-blue-colored drapes downstairs, and more decorated drapes hanging on the upstairs window; including one that was pink with a mixture of simples on it.

Taking in how childish the pattern was, he concluded that a child's room was placed around the inside of the window.

_So it's true, she _does _have a child…_ Ikuto thought. Sighing, he sent out a secret hope to above, before beginning to step-out of his car. He decided to leave his bag in there, just in case he wouldn't be able to take residence in that home — although he vaguely believed that he would be able to.

A few seconds later, he was on the front porch of the home, and ringing the door bell that was placed at the side of the door. He waited out there for about ten or so seconds before someone answered the door.

"Ikuto!" He didn't have time to prepare himself as a weight was dropped on him. He automatically wrapped his hands around it, as he engaged himself in a hug; a soft smile on his face.

"Hello, Utau." He murmured with a kiss at the top of a blonde head as he addressed his little sister.

"Ikuto, it's been so long!" Utau said as she continued to hug her older brother. She couldn't believe that he was there. It had been nearly _forever _since the last time that she had seen him. But not a day had gone by since she wondered how her older brother was doing — a curiosity that was momentarily satisfied when she watched a news report on him and his latest show. "I can't believe that you're here!" She exclaimed; hugging him harder.

"I'm glad to finally be able to see you, too." He said. "Or, at least, the top of your head." He said as he continued to stare at the blonde hair.

Laughing, Utau pulled back, allowing Ikuto to see the features of her face. He was surprised to see how much she had changed. Utau no longer held that long blonde hair that he had grown so fond of when they were younger, but instead had her hair cut up to her shoulders, and styled in a respectful bob; that was at the moment pulled-back by a headband.

But even so, she still held those beautiful purple-colored eyes that he had always adored, and that same bright smile that she only ever gave to him.

It felt good to see her face again — although he did notice the hints of maturity that it had now taken.

In a way, it was like he was looking at Utau, and yet not.

"It's so good to see you!" Utau exclaimed; more than elated at the fact that, after over a decade, she could finally lay her eyes on her older brother. "It's been quite a while, Ikuto." She said to him.

"I know, and I'm sorry for not being able to visit you sooner, but my music career has kept me from doing that." He said to her as she gave him a kiss on the cheek, and he one back.

"I know. I've seen you on the TV several times. You're even more talented than I remember you to be."

"Thank you. What about you? What have you been doing, Utau?" He asked her. At his question, she paused in her response to gesture him inside.

"Come in. I'll tell you on the way to the kitchen."

Nodding, he took her invitation and stepped inside her two-story home. Taking a first glance, he found that there were several of her and her husband's different tastes blended-in perfectly with the interior.

He found that he liked it — especially since his father's presence was nowhere to be felt.

Momentarily, he envied his younger sister. Since she was married, and had been for quite a long while, she was free of their family's controlling ways, and could do as she pleased. He wished for that level of freedom, every day. And he hoped that, someday, he would finally be able to grasp it, and hold it forever.

"What do you think?" Utau asked him as they entered the kitchen; the smell of food cooking hitting his nose.

"It's simple. Nothing like the manor… I love it." He answered.

She turned back to him with a smile on her face. "I'm glad. To be honest, I've always been a little worried that you wouldn't like the amount of space that the house gives — seeing as how the manor is so large." She confessed. "But I'm happy that you like it." She finished as she went to the stove, and lifted a steel lid and used a spoon to stir some rice with vegetables mixed in.

"Are you having lunch?" Ikuto asked. Utau nodded.

"In a few minutes, to be exact — the rice is almost ready." She said as she finished mixing the pot full of rice, and lowered the temperature of the stove while placing the lid over it once again. She put the spoon down before turning to her older brother; she took in his features.

Age favored him, greatly.

"You look amazing, Ikuto." Utau said as she took a seat at the kitchen island, opposite him.

"Thank you. You look amazing, too, Utau. I'm surprised that you cut your hair — I remember you saying that you would never do that as long as you lived." He said. He watched as his little sister took a few strands of the shortened locks, and began to twirl it in between her fingers.

"Yeah, well, you know; when you have children, you're a little too high-maintenance to be constantly combing and taming your long, wild hair." She said.

"So it is true that you have a child." Ikuto said.

"Yes, a daughter." Utau said; releasing the lock. "Actually, two daughters, but, one of them is adopted." She said to them. "How did you know that I had a child, Ikuto?" Utau asked. "I don't recall ever telling you that I had a child — let alone being pregnant."

"Father told me." Ikuto responded; causing Utau's eyes to widen.

"What?" She asked, shocked and surprised. "How does he know? I haven't spoken to Father or Mother since I moved-out when I was nineteen." Utau said; clearly disturbed by the news. "How could they possibly know that I had been pregnant?" Ikuto shrugged.

"All I know is that he knew that you were pregnant, and that you had a daughter…" He murmured.

Utau's purple eyes hardened.

"Has he been spying on me?" She immediately concluded. "Is my house bugged? Is there a PI outside, watching me?" She questioned. Groaning, she pulled back locks of her short blonde hair. "I can't believe this… I'm being spied on by my own father — on second thought, I _can _believe that. Father always has been quite—"

"Controlling?" Ikuto suggested.

Utau nodded her head. "Very controlling…" She murmured in agreement. Glancing quickly at Ikuto, she said, "Does he still try to control your life, Ikuto? Or have you managed to find a loophole?" She asked; referring to the rule about leaving the house and gaining freedom.

"Yes, he's still controlling — more so than ever, I believe…" He said with a hint of weariness in his voice.

"What has he done to you?" Utau asked.

Ikuto, not caring at all about hiding the truth about the situation to his little sister (whom he has trusted since the day she was born), raised his hand to allow her a better view of it. Utau focused her eyes on the hand, and her irises widened as she finally spotted it.

"You're getting _married_?!" She screamed in full-shock.

Ikuto nodded.

"Father is forcing me to." He responded as he looked at the simple platinum and gem-stoned engagement ring that had been conveniently provided for both him and Onagi-san.

"What?!" Utau asked as she heard what he said. "He's forcing you to get married? Why? Is it because he's tired of you living at the house?" She asked. It made no sense that Ikuto was getting married. For as long as she could remember, her brother was always more focused on his musical career than his love life. So for him to suddenly get engaged…

Ikuto sighed.

"Utau… do you remember about my… _preferences _when we were younger?" He asked her.

Utau gave him a confused look.

"Preferences…?" She repeated. Ikuto nodded. Utau's forehead creased. "I… can't say that I remember. What preferences, Ikuto?" The male, who had been recently leaning on his hands with his elbows resting on the table, sighed and sat-up in the chair.

"Never mind…" He murmured; deciding to drop the one aspect. "The point is: Father is forcing me to marry the girl because he doesn't agree with _it_." He said.

"That's horrible…" Utau said. "I can't understand how much this must be hurting you. Although, I don't think the female that you're marrying would mind…" She said; once again giving her older brother an once-over. She didn't think that there was a female on this planet who would disagree with having to marry her brother. He was definitely a handsome young man.

"That's where you're wrong, Utau." Ikuto said. "She dislikes it as much as I do — maybe more."

"Why?" Utau asked.

Her brother leaned further back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. He momentarily closed his eyes before looking-up at her.

"Father ruined her life."

Utau sighed. She didn't need any more than that.

"Of course…" She said. It didn't sound as if she were surprised by the girl's reasoning. She'd hate a man too if she had been forced to marry his son. Sighing, she stood from her seat to go check on the food.

As soon as she lifted the lid, steam flew into her face. Inhaling it, she gave a gentle smile.

"I'm surprised you learned how to cook." Ikuto said as she stood from his spot at the table, and walked around it to stand near his little sister. He smirked at her as she turned off the stove and began to stir the rice a little more; steam quickly diminishing in the air.

Utau smiled softly as she went-about preparing the dishes. She placed her wooden spoon back inside the large pot of rice, and began to check on the meat and vegetables that she was also preparing.

"I remember when you first tried to cook. The Fire Department still has you on their list, you know." Ikuto said; amusement growing in his eyes.

Utau giggled. "Shut up. It was one time."

"You burned-down the kitchen. And I'm not saying that it was a little scorched, but I'm talking about everything in ashes — pots, pans, appliances—"

"Stop already!" Utau yelled; laughing in-between. "It was _one time_! I never touched a stove again until Kukai _insisted _that I learned how to cook." She stated.

"How many kitchens did you burn down?"

Utau grabbed the wooden spoon and wasted no time in trying to whack Ikuto with it. Ikuto avoided it easily enough, since the action was light-hearted.

"God! I _hate you _sometimes!" Utau said; a smile on her face.

Ikuto chuckled as he pushed his hair back with one hand; one of his rare soft smiles on his face as he looked at his little sister's brilliant expression. "I love you too." He answered.

Utau scoffed; rolling her eyes as she placed the previous-weapon to the side and went to her cupboards. Opening the brown and wooden material, she revealed white bowls of various sizes and styles. She grabbed two that were on the middle shelf and small, and grabbed three that were on the bottom shelf and quite large.

"You're having lunch with us, right?" She asked as she closed the cupboard and headed to the sink to rinse them under some hot water.

"You don't mind?" Ikuto asked.

"Why would I? You're my brother, Ikuto, and I haven't seen you in _years_! _Of course _I wouldn't mind if you stayed for lunch." Utau stated. She placed the bowls to the side, and grabbed one of them as well as the spoon, and began to fill it with rice.

"Is that edible?" Ikuto asked.

Utau sent him a half-hearted glare; the smile never leaving her face.

* * *

By the time lunch had already been prepared, Ikuto and Utau had shared several jokes, stories, and so-on. Ikuto learned that Utau was the music teacher at her children's school, while Kukai taught gym and was coach to the soccer team — that their child was a part of.

Now the table in her normal-sized dining room was set with plates, extra helpings, and even two glass pitchers filled with water and ice, and juice. The utensils were placed on napkins, and cups were placed on coasters.

_It seems Utau still hasn't outgrown the ways of the manor…_ Ikuto thought as he looked at the display. It vaguely reminded him of what the table in the family dining room back at the manor, would look like every time they all sat down to have a silent meal. It was obvious Utau was fully-accustomed to a gorgeous and full spread of food that included much variety.

He wondered if, when he moves out, he'll be the same…

"All set."Utau said as she looked at the table. Then she caught glimpse of one missing element and quickly ran across the room to where there were three windows hidden behind red drapes. She quickly pulled them back and allowed fresh sunlight to enter the room. "Now it's perfect." She said as she finished hanging back the last drape.

"Nothing less than perfect — isn't that right, Utau?" Ikuto asked. His sister nodded her head; a sad smile on her face.

"Yeah… I guess you never outgrow the habits that you've experienced since birth, huh?" She asked. Ikuto remained silent. Sighing, Utau began to exit the dining room. "Oh well, enough of talking about the manor and all those other depressing details. You're here — _far _away from there. Let's focus on the positive." She stated.

Ikuto couldn't help the lightening of expression. "Motherhood has changed you, Utau." He said.

"Thank you. When you have a child, you have to focus on the little things; those small achievements that they're proud of. You can't just forget about it. You have to pay a certain amount of attention, and enjoy them while they last. Life is short, you know…" At her depressing tone, Ikuto raised an eyebrow.

"Utau… what happened?" He asked.

Utau shook her head. "It's nothing — it happened a long time ago…" She said. "And besides, now is not the time for negatives. Let's just focus on the positives — okay?" She didn't wait for his response; knowing all-too-well what it would be. "Great! I'll go call her down." She stated.

Utau quickly went-up the stairs to the second floor of her home, as she went to retrieve her daughter.

Meanwhile, in the minutes of her departure, Ikuto made his way to the living room. Entering, he examined the air; most of the colors where cream and white, it was very bright, and there was even a chandelier hanging over the area. He smirked as he noticed it.

_She took it from her room…_ He thought; easily recognizing the expensive decoration after so many years.

He found it amusing how she had taken things from the manor and used it to decorate her home. He would've thought that she wouldn't have wanted anything to do with that place — even things that just hung around to make the place look more elegant. But at the same time… it worked for the room.

Looking over the area once again — the soft-texture couches, the wooden tables, the vases that he _knows _also used to be a part of her room — his eyes landed on the fireplace below their flat-screen television.

Atop it were several pictures frames of different sizes and frames. He immediately spotted two very familiar people in them; Utau and Kukai. It wasn't hard to determine them. He knew Utau's features better than any, and he was certain that Kukai would be the only male in a picture with her, nowadays.

He couldn't help but smile as he spotted one from when they seemed to go on a vacation of the sorts. He concluded the place to be a beach, and Utau was wearing a pink two-piece bathing suit, and Kukai a pair of red trunks.

The picture had to be taken before Utau had her child, because her hair was long — down to her knees — and the large baby bump was hard to miss. He was surprised that she didn't cover-up. Utau never had been the type of person to show her body at any time; especially when it wasn't her regular shape. But he assumed that, after meeting and falling in love with Kukai, he had quite an influence on her personality.

In a way, he thanked the man for doing so. He has always wanted his little sister to be happy and less uptight — to not become like their lifeless mother — and he managed to do that.

Looking over all the pictures, it was like he was looking at a timeline of Utau's life after she left the manor. Her pregnancy, the day their baby was born, their first Christmas together, and other special events that all included a little blonde-haired baby girl with soft amber-yellow eyes. When he finally got to a picture of the little girl, herself, he studied it.

She had flowing blonde hair. It was curly and went down to her waist. Her bangs were flat against her forehead, and she had a thin white headband with a small black bow on it for design, over them. Her amber yellow eyes were soft and beautiful, and she had the perfect angelic face. Seated, and with her hands on her lap, she looked quite respectful, poised, and almost doll-like with the white frilly dress that she had on.

_This must be Utau's child…_ He thought. His eyebrows furrowed as he continued to study her face. She seemed fragile. A little bit like a china doll.

He found it… interesting: that a little girl could mimic the most delicate of objects. He'd never seen such a thing.

He reached up with his fingertips to touch the frame. That little girl piqued his interest. She made him think in ways that he never had, before. It was in an artistic way. He could feel notes entering his mind — soft, fragile notes that wove a tender melody.

It was so foreign. So unlike what he's ever thought of.

And that's why he lost interest in the picture.

He wasn't one to step out of his boundaries. He knew where his limitations were. And that's why he _knew _that he could never produce the notes that were slowly playing in his head — in a gentle lullaby.

His past was too dark, and his music was too intense for him to suddenly switch gears, completely.

But he didn't completely forget about it.

Because maybe someday — _someday _he'll be able to bring life to those notes, and allow the world to hear them. They were daintily beautiful, and he was not the type of heartless man to shatter them like glass.

_Someday…_

Sighing, he moved away from the pictures and decided to go find Utau. She'd been gone for quite a while, and he knew that time went rather quickly when he got caught up in his work at the most random of times.

For all he knew, it could've been an hour since he'd last seen his little sister.

_I wonder what's taking her so long._ He thought as he exited the living room, and began to head up the stairs to the second floor. _I hope she didn't fall or something._ From what he could recall about his little sister, she had the most perfect balance he'd ever seen, but tended to become a klutz when she was rushing around and doing things.

Reaching the second floor, he looked left and right before heading to the right; a long hallway holding three doors, while the left was a short hallway holding a single door. Walking down the right hallway, he immediately noticed an open door and began to head towards it.

Once he was there, he pushed the door open more and was surprised to find himself stepping into what was clearly a girl's room. If the feminine interior design wasn't a dead giveaway, then the fact that there was a girl sitting on a bed while she moved a pencil over paper, would've helped him come to the conclusion.

Ikuto was shocked to realize that he had managed to stumble upon the one place he wanted to avoid. And while he wanted nothing more but to leave the room and continue his search for his sister, he found himself frozen on the spot.

He couldn't move his eyes away from the girl as he took in her feminine features.

What caught his eyes immediately was that she had pink hair. It was a somewhat dark shade of pink, and currently tied back into a single ponytail; with two black, crossed bobby pins holding back what he assumed to be her bangs, and forming a small bump on top of her head. Her hair wasn't very long. From his height and angle, he could see that it barely managed to reach her neck, from its ponytail. But the way its soft pink color shined in the dim afternoon lighting, completely overshadowed her short hair.

While her head was titled downward, he couldn't determine much of her face. However, he could easily see that her long eyelashes lightly dusted against her cheeks whenever she blinked, and that they were nice and dark. He saw a hint of her eye color, but wasn't able to fully determine what it was.

Her face was heart-shaped, and she held pale white skin. It didn't seem like she went out, much; her skin was almost as pale as his own — which was extremely pale given how he's never been the type of person to go out. But this only added to her natural beauty.

He couldn't help himself as he took in her figure. She was a slim girl; barely developing curves and becoming a lady. But that was understandable — she was a young girl, after all. However, she still held a good level of physical attractiveness.

She had a slim neck that connected her head to her shoulders, perfectly. Her torso was a little flat, but he could see the hint of the curves of her growing breasts, from the creases in her simple, short-sleeved white t-shirt. It seemed that she was just starting off. Her hips were small, but they were big enough to hint that she had a good butt, and her legs were long, and clearly shown in the simple, jean shorts that she wore.

It was obvious that she was athletic. Her legs were nicely toned, and had muscles; that didn't get in the way. The skin there looked so soft, and her feet were surprisingly big for a dainty-looking girl.

He stood there silently; unable to move as his mind processed everything about the girl sitting on the bed — the hunch of her back as she leaned forward, the way her legs were crossed, how she didn't seem to notice his presence, at all — and instantaneously notes began to fill his head.

He gulped down as the extremity of the notes became overwhelming, and his heart began to pump faster. He placed his free hand that was not tightly clutching onto the doorknob, over his heart, and could feel the rapid beats.

_**B-boom…**_

_**B-boom…**_

_**B-boom…**_

He could feel his mind begin to become cloudy. As he continued to stare at her, the world became a blurry place and the only figure that he could clearly see, was her. She was the only image that his mind registered, and solely focused on. Hell, he wasn't even sure if he was dead or alive, by that point; he was too consumed with taking in and trying to hold back every emotion that he was currently feeling.

_Crap… _He thought in his mind as he moved his fingers and felt his sweaty palms. He nonchalantly tried to take in deep breaths that weren't visible. _I need to go…_ He immediately concluded.

There was no way that he could stay in that room, any longer. His body was already beginning to react negatively to the young female — any more time spent looking at her and he might lose control. He couldn't have that. She was just a child. A pure, innocent little girl who had yet to learn about the truths of the world — and didn't deserve to have it delivered to her the way he was desperately craving to.

But no matter how much his mind told him that he should move, his body stood as still as a statue and continued to stare at her. His eyes focused on her left arm as it moved to turn the page of the book that she was currently reading; her right using the pencil to write notes on it. His eyes focused on the way her tongue became visible past her lips, and wet them before going back in. His eyes focused on the way that, after a few minutes of containing an expression at ease, her face changed into one of disturbance; her perfectly shaped pink eyebrows furrowed closer together, and her forehead creased at the same time that her pretty, slim and pink lips bent into a light frown.

"How long are you gonna stand there and stare at me?" His eyes went wide and he silently gasped as she finally spoke. He could feel his pulse pick-up as she raised her head, and allowed him to see her golden-amber eyes. "Well? Are you gonna reply?"

_Her… voice…_ He thought as his mind continued to reply that sound of her voice, in an endless loop. _I-it… it's so… so—_

"Mom!" She yelled. He didn't flinch at the sound of her loud voice, but instead wanted to hear it more and more. He felt the urge to rip out the sound of her voice from her throat, and bottle it all for himself. That voice… it was lovely and spoke _volumes _to him — more than the average person would hear.

"What is—oh! Ikuto, what are you doing up here?" Utau asked as she came into the room with a basket of clothing in her arms. It seemed as if she was about to do the laundry. But he knew that, being the neat-freak that she was, Utau was probably just tidying up before heading down to the dining room for lunch.

But he didn't respond. It wasn't as if he would be able to, anyway. While he was still consumed with thoughts of the girl that he was staring at, she was vocalizing what she thought.

"He's been standing there and staring at me for the past couple minutes — who is he?" The mysterious girl asked.

She briefly switched her gaze from her mother, to him. Ikuto remained still as he watched the way her slightly narrowed eyes scrutinized him up and down. Once they reached his face once again, they narrowed even more as she stared directly into his eyes.

He could see her golden-amber orbs twinkle with that he was sure was distrust and suspicion.

"Amu, this is your uncle, Tsukiyomi Ikuto."

* * *

.

.

.

* * *

End. I know that this chapter is shorter than the last, but I don't think that it was any less important. After all, Amu was finally introduced! ^^ Plus, her relationship to Ikuto was revealed, and a hint about her age. I'm sure that with these new pieces of information, you'll slowly start to figure-out what my concerns for the story are, and the basic plot. Of course, while many of the events that occur while change, it will follow the plot of the original Lolita to a maximum.

Next chapter: Ikuto's emotional conflict while he continues his visit to the Souma household. Plus, some more clues to his past, and some interactions between him and Amu.

I hope you liked the chapter, and please review! ^^

Xoxoxo Chibi Star Vamp


	3. My Sister's Daughter

Hello, all! I'm so glad that this story is getting such a good response. Although, there are some things that I've been thinking about, and have decided to do this early on in the story, so that I won't run into any problems in the future.

**Warning: Incest**

This is obvious since Amu is Ikuto's niece, and she is his love-interest. Of course, it doesn't start right now. At the moment, I'm going to focus on building their relationship, before material that includes incest (although not heavily), is introduced. I really hope that this didn't ruin the story for most of you, and if it did, sorry. But this is how I planned it to be after reading Lolita — although that does not include incest. *sigh* I'm sorry, again. But for those of you who are okay with it, or who are still deciding, I promise that the story will remain on my promise to make everything about it, tasteful.

Well that's all for now. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and please review to the story and its material, at the end.

Disclaimer: I do not own the original characters of _Shugo Chara!_ I only own my own characters, and the use of the plot since it is inspired by a novel.

Lolita was originally written by Vladimir Nabokov. This is my adaptation/version of it.

* * *

.

.

.

* * *

Lolita

_**Chapter 2: My Sister's Daughter**_

***By Chibi Star Vamp***

* * *

.

.

.

* * *

"Amu, this is your uncle, Tsukiyomi Ikuto."

The mysterious little girl, Amu, looked back at the identified blue male that was still standing at her door, and staring at her. While she continued to glare at him, her expression lightened the slightest bit now that her mother had identified the statue-like stranger that had entered her room.

"Uncle?" She repeated. Utau nodded her head.

"Yes. Your uncle — my brother. He's come to visit us." Utau said. "And it's lunch time. I want you to come downstairs to eat with us. You can finish doing your homework, later." Utau said.

The little girl, Amu, sighed at her mother's comment. Without protest, she placed her pencil inside of her book, and then closed it shut. Moving off of her bed, she placed her book inside one of the drawers of her white-colored nightstand, and closed it before heading towards the door.

"Yes mom." She said in a tone that vaguely reminded Ikuto of the way that Utau would respond to their mother, when they were younger. However, there wasn't that robotic tone to it that she had in the days of their childhood. Instead, the little girl's voice hinted at her annoyance. It wasn't cold and emotionless, or automatic. It sounded like a person's voice — because it was.

It was obvious that Utau was raising her child using techniques that were similar to the way she was raised, but different at the same time. She still implored that strong concept of self-control that they both grew up on, but it was clear that she was allowing her child to have the freedom to express herself.

As the little girl stood in front of him, Ikuto continued to stare at her. He hadn't even moved a centimeter from his spot. But his breath was caught in his throat as he realized how close to him she was, and the subtle scent of blueberries wafted into his nose. Funny, he expected something more flowery and bubblegum-like to be her scent — because of her hair color. But that didn't mean that the scent didn't suit her. In fact, since it was such a contradiction to her looks, it made her all the more interesting and unique.

"Hello." She said to him. It took him a while to register the fact that she was speaking to him, but once he did, he struggled to answer her.

However, he pushed through.

"Hello." He said; managing to remain his usual tone-of-voice, and sound normal.

"It's nice to meet you Uncle Ikuto. Now, can you move, please? I want to go downstairs." She said to him.

"Amu!" Utau said with a look of disapproval on her face. There was a light frown on as she looked at her daughter. "That's rude — the least you can do is introduce yourself to him properly." She said. Amu sighed and rolled her golden-amber eyes; much to Utau's displeasure.

"Why should I? I know he's my uncle, he knows I'm his niece. No more information is needed. Now if you'd excuse me…" She paused as she lowered herself a little, and managed to slip under Ikuto's arm; her head lightly brushing against it. His head followed her as she stood in front of her mother. "I'm going to the bathroom."

Utau's disapproving look faltered the slightest and changed a bit more into sadness as she watched her daughter walk down the hall and to the door across her room. Sighing as it was closed, she turned back to Ikuto with an apologetic look.

"I'm really sorry about that." She started. "Amu's a little problematic, at times." She said.

"She rebels?" Ikuto asked; having regained enough of his composure to carry-on with a simple conversation. It was especially easy to do since the little girl and her distracting presence was no longer around.

"Not entirely." She said with a sigh. "She's a really good girl. Good grades, leveled head, and uses common sense. However, she does have her moments where she does things that cause headaches…" Utau stated as she began to walk back down the hallway, and headed to the door next to the little girl's room.

"Then she's the adopted child?" Ikuto asked.

"No. Why would you ask that?" Utau asked him as she opened the door. Quickly glancing up to look at it, Ikuto saw that it was another little's kid's room. Only this time, it was set-up for a much younger child, and there were three beds there.

Noticing the confusion in his eyes, Utau spoke. "We're planning to adopt again. There's this little group of children at the orphanage that we've both become attached to. We're currently working hard to get them everything that they'll need to live comfortably, next year." She stated.

"Ah." He responded. It made sense that Utau would want to adopt, again. She always wanted a large and happy family, when they were younger — a family different from their own. And Kukai, he knew, was an adopted child himself. It only made sense that the both of them would have their own child, and open their home to other children. However, why they only chose to adopt little kids, he'll never understand.

Switching gears, he responded to her previous question as she placed the basket inside the room.

"Downstairs in the living room I saw a picture of a blonde girl." Hearing his response, Utau nodded her head. Straightening her spine, she sighed.

"That was Amu when she was a little girl." Utau confessed; much to Ikuto's surprise. "She had the prettiest blonde hair. So long and soft and beautiful… but when she came back from summer camp, a year ago, she had that short pink hair…" Utau said; her eyes glistening.

"I remember thinking that it was wig; some sort of joke. As a child, Amu did want to become a comedian, and she always enjoyed playing petty pranks on Kukai and me. But when she said that it wasn't, and I pulled on her hair… It was shocking, honestly. She came back from that summer camp with _pink hair_." Utau sighed once again; it was heavier than before, and an attempt at her calming herself down.

"She wants to go back this year, but… after what happened last time, I'm still deliberating it — at least that was her only major change, in the past year. Overall, she's the same as before." Utau stated.

"That's good." Ikuto said.

"Anyways, let's head downstairs to eat. The food's getting cold." Silently Ikuto nodded his head and moved away from the doorway to allow his sister to head outside the room. He was about to take his first step to follow her, but froze when the little girl, Amu, suddenly came into his line of vision.

She paused for a moment and turned her head to look at him. He was frozen still with shock as he looked at her, and watched as she moved back a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"I don't like you." She said to him in that voice that was sweet and yet harsh, at the same time.

Then she moved and was gone.

He could feel his heart continue to beat harshly. An image of _her_ face appeared in his mind, and he once again placed his hand over his heart, and dug his fingers into the material of his shirt. His teeth clenched together tightly as he felt a familiar, painful feeling in his heart that he hadn't suffered through for years.

He took in a deep breath.

_Crap…_

* * *

He needed to stay away from her, he concluded.

There was no way that he would be able to maintain his sanity if he stuck around that little girl. She caused him too much pain. Just by the form of her body and the look of her face, she caused him too much pain.

He honestly couldn't understand why Fate was being so cruel to him. After all, he's gone through so much pain and suffering in the early years of his childhood, and just when he thought that, as an adult, he'd have a much easier time dealing with his problem, Life throws at him a replica of its origin.

He hated it so much.

He hated the fact that she… she…

He sighed. He was annoyed — miffed at the world for dealing him another crappy card. And this time, it was worse than before. This card was not only the worst that had ever been dealt, but it was forbidden.

_Goddamn…_ He sighed.

It was as he took in a deep breath to calm his nerves that he realized that he was still in the little children's room. His nose inhaled the sweet scent, and he mentally cringed.

The similarity was astounding…

_I need to go… _He thought as he swiftly turned on his heels and began to rush down the stairs. His long legs got him down to the ground floor in a matter of seconds. _I can't stay here. I need to go — I need to leave and never come back._

But just as he was about to make a swift escape through the front door, it opened. His eyes widened and he stood, shocked, as he looked at Kukai.

"Ikuto?" Kukai said.

He didn't respond. Instead, he felt annoyed at the fact that the man was blocking his exit. Why, oh why, couldn't he have arrived back at his home, later? If Kukai had waited another thirty or so seconds to open the door, he could've already been inside his car, and getting ready to drive-off to a place far, far away from that household.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Kukai asked; a smile slowly forming on his face. It was obvious to him that it was a greeting smile — he expected him to stay.

"Kukai?" Utau said as she walked into the hallway. When her eyes landed on her husband, she sighed. "What took you so long? You should've been back here over an hour ago." She stated. Her eyes formed a light glare and she frowned at her husband as she made her way over to him.

"Sorry, Utau," Kukai said. "Nadeshiko's appointment lasted longer than I thought." At this, Utau sighed.

"I told you, you should've been there _at least _an hour early. You _can't _leave at the exact time of the appointment." She said to him. She disliked how her husband wasn't as punctual as she was, but then again, maybe that was why she preferred him over every other male that she had met in her lifetime…

He was the opposite of her.

And she very much enjoyed that.

"You were right — I'm sorry." He said with a grin. Utau frowned. She knew what he was doing. She knew that he knew that she enjoyed seeing that boyish grin on his face. It was one of her weaknesses.

"Hmph." She huffed; turning around. "Just come in and eat. Amu and I have been waiting long enough, thank you."

"What are we having?" He asked her.

"Something simple."

Kukai sighed. "I don't think I have enough room for _something simple_." He said. Having been married to Utau for over a decade, he's been through many of her cooked meals learning that Utau's definition of _something simple _was not anything like his. Her definition was his definition of _dinner_.

"Just get in here." Utau said with the side of her lip raised into a smile.

"Okay, okay — we'll be right there." He stated. Utau gave him a final nod of acknowledgement before disappearing into the dining room. It was then that Kukai turned his attention back to Ikuto. "Are you staying for lunch, Ikuto?" He asked.

Before he could answer, another voice did.

"No. He's leaving." It said.

It made him a statue. His blood froze in his veins, and for a split second he couldn't do a single thing. That voice…

Moments later, the little girl appeared at his side, once again. From the corner of his eye, he could see the top of her pink head, and her undeniable scent was filling his nose. He stuffed his hands into the pocket of his jeans; they were shaking.

Just from her presence, his body was shaking.

"Really?" Kukai asked.

Amu nodded. "He bolted down the stairs and would have been out of the door if it were not for you arriving…" She stated. She tilted her head up to look at him. His jaw clenched; he couldn't look at her. "Good ahead. Leave — you know you want to." She urged in her annoying voice.

He gulped down the clog forming in his throat.

_Damn…_ He thought. Inside his pockets, his hands were shaking. He clenched and unclenched his fingers; as if he were squeezing a rubber toy with as much force as he possibly could. He could almost hear it squeak under the amount of pressure that he was putting on it. And imagining the sound of that squeak had blocked out all noises. Until—

"Why the hesitation?" She asked once again. He wished that she would stop talking. That voice of hers was annoying. "Weren't you practically running to the door? Surely it wasn't because you heard my father coming home."

"Amu, stop." Kukai said. He gave his daughter a stern look before moving his gaze up to Ikuto; his eyes apologetic. "I'm really sorry about that, Ikuto." He started. "She probably just misinterpreted the situation." He stated with a bit of a nervous grin on his face.

Amu rolled her golden-yellow eyes.

"Father, please…" She said; taking another step in front of him. She was now directly in front of Ikuto, and the blue-haired male slowly and casually took a step back. The movement only caused him to get a whiff of the scent of her hair. His fingers clenched more tightly. "You weren't here when he was practically sprinting down the hallway and heading towards the door. Did you miss the way he looked at you when you entered? It's obvious that you foiled his plans to leave. I bet you, right now, that all he wants is to push you aside and go to his car."

She turned to look directly at him.

He kept his head straight and looking at a confused Kukai, whose eyebrows were furrowed due to his daughter's statements. But he could feel her gaze on him, and every now and then he would catch glimpses of her eyes.

"You want to leave." She said softly. Her voice made him gulp; his fingers clenching even tighter than before. "Go ahead — _leave_." She stated.

Amu took the initiative and even grabbed onto her father's arm, and moved him away from the door. Briefly she glanced at the other little girl beside her father. She tore her eyes away from the child, and continued moving her father until he was fully on the side of the door, and a clean exit was provided.

Once again she stood in front of Ikuto; noticing how he still refused to look at her, but was staring directly outside.

"Blue skies. Green grass. Open roads. Miles on end. I bet that car of yours can get up to _at least _30mpg, right?" She questioned. "And I doubt it doesn't hold almost a full tank. If you leave now, it'll be _hours _before you run out of gas and are forced to stop for more — by then, this house will be a thing of the past. Go ahead. _Leave_."

"That's enough Amu." Kukai said. "It's rude to tell a person to leave the house. I want you to go into the dining room and eat your lunch."

Amu crossed her arms, and began to walk. "Fine." She said; without hesitance. And then as silently as she came, she walked down the hall, and turned a right to enter the kitchen and then the dining room.

She could hear her father's voice as he murmured apologies to the statue-like man.

"_I'm really sorry about that, Amu is… she… problems… good…"_

His apologies made her scoff.

_Fool…_ She thought. If only her father could see what she was able to see. If only her father wasn't so blinded by incomplete paradigms, then maybe he could truly see that man. _He'll learn, eventually._ She thought as she entered the dining room.

She wasn't surprised by the look on her mother's face as she sat in front of a clear plate.

"What's taking so long?" Her mother muttered.

"Dad's talking to that man." She said; causing her mother to jump slightly and her eyes to widen as she realized that she was no longer the only one in that room.

"Amu, when did you get in here?" Utau asked.

"A little while ago." She responded as she took her seat, directly across from her mother. Pushing her chair in, she looked over the display of food — still warm — that completely covered the center of the table. "I'm starving. What are we having?" She asked; since the food on the table was covered-up by tin tops.

"Rice, vegetables, and meat — along with either water or, just for today, some soda." Utau stated.

"Soda? Is that because your brother is here?" Amu asked.

Utau sighed. "Go get your father and sister." She stated.

Amu sighed. She was just about to stand and do as her mother said, when she caught the sight of shadows forming in the doorway. Looking up, she watched as her father walked in, along with the other child — and that man.

She rolled her eyes as she retook her seat, and lifted the cover of the rice. Her mother was going to scold her, she could tell, but was too distracted by the man as he took a seat next to her father; one seat away from the other child. She sighed as she noticed just how easily her mother was distracted by that man.

_I knew he wouldn't leave…_

* * *

Lunch had been annoying, in her opinion. The entire time was spent with her mother asking that man various questions, and him answering in a soft, barely audible voice. Several times her mother had asked him why he seemed so nervous. Never did he answer. But she knew. She was a very bright child, and could tell just _what _was making him nervous.

Even now, as she played a game of soccer with her father, while her mother, the other child, and that man were seated on the porch drinking lemonade and eating light sandwiches, she could see that he was uneasy, and noticed the way his muscles tensed whenever his eyes shifted their view.

_Stop staring at me…_ She thought as she twisted her body and managed to get the ball away from her father. She quickly glanced up to look at her goal (two trees in the backyard that held a large white swing between them), before looking down at the ball once again and glancing at her father. He seemed to be struggling keeping up with her.

Quickly she glanced back at the man. Her mother was chatting it up with him; a smile on her face as she, surely, told him stories of her life after she got married to her father. The other child sat there, silent, and with a smile on their face as they heard the stories.

But while her mother seemed more than elated at the fact that the man was there, he didn't seem to care. He was emotionless and stoic as he sat there, ridged, and listened to her stories. Every now and then he would take a sip of his lemonade, before setting it down. It was when he had the lemonade in his hands, and was drinking it, that he looked at her.

It was always a quick glance — a momentary shift of the eyes that occurred in a split-second before he tensed, and turned his gaze back to her mother.

_Stop staring at me…_ She thought. Turning her attention back to the game, she kicked the ball and made it land directly on the bench. The chains that held the swing jingled momentarily as it slightly bounced.

"That's game." She said to her father once he made his way over to the bench. Kukai was breathing heavily as he looked at the ball, and then at his daughter. A smile on his face.

"You're getting better." He said to her. "If you keep this up, I might have no choice but to make you team captain, this year." He stated. Inside, Amu felt a sense of pride swell up inside her, before it quickly deflated. She scoffed; moving her hands across her forehead and wiping the beads of sweat that were there.

"Do what you want." She said. She didn't miss the way he lightly frowned at her before she turned around and began to head to the porch.

Her eyes landed on that man.

_I'll show them — all of them._

"Hey! Mom!" She called out. She watched his reaction; the way his muscles tightened, how his nails dug into the wood of the chair, and the way he clenched the lemonade glass tightly. _Did you see that? _She asked in her mind. But it was clear that her mother, whom the silent question was directed towards, _didn't _see the way that man quickly replicated a statue, at the sound of her voice.

"What is it, Amu?" Utau asked as she turned her head to look at her child.

"Can I have some lemonade? It's really hot, and I'm sweating." She stated. She glanced at the man sitting across her mother; his gaze lowered towards the ground.

"Sorry Amu, there's no more." Utau said.

Amu huffed. But secretly, she wasn't upset. In fact, it was perfect. After all — her mother was right. There was not a single drop of lemonade left.

Except in that man's glass.

"It's alright." She said. "I'll just share with someone." Then without warning, she went over to him and grabbed his drink. She made sure that she blocked his view of her mother as she placed the glass that he had been drinking from, to her lips, and began to drink from it.

It was then that he finally looked at her.

His eyes looked at her, and locked into her own before moving down to her mouth. Since the glass was clear, he could easily see the way her tongue circled the reachable edges of the glass, before they settled on the edge where she was drinking from. He didn't miss how it had been the exact areas where his mouth had been.

It was an indirect kiss.

He sighed and stood from his seat. He hovered over her, staring down at her face as she continued to drink from his glass, and watched as she took in the last bits of the lemonade, held a piece of ice in her mouth, and then released it back into the glass.

She then removed the glass from her lips and gave out a sigh; licking her lips afterwards.

"Yummy." She said. Then she grabbed one of his hands with her free hand, and opened his fingers by placing her smaller ones inside of his hand. It was surprisingly easy to pry his fingers open, and once she did, her small hand was flat against his own. She ran her hand against his, before removing it and placing the glass in his hand. "Thanks for the drink." She stated.

With those as her parting words, she turned around and moved the glass sliding door aside, and stepped into the house. Closing the door behind her, she turned her head and glanced back at the man.

He was still motionless, but she could see the way his chest rose and fell heavily.

_Open your eyes, mom, and see…_

* * *

"I need to go." He stated.

"What? Why?" Utau asked.

They were currently inside the living room and watching the sports game that was going on, that afternoon. While Kukai and their second daughter were fully invested in watching the home team take on the visitors, she and Ikuto had been seated on the long couch and were chatting. Or at least, they _had been _chatting until he told her that he had to go.

"You've only been here for two hours, Ikuto — can't you stay a little longer?" She pleaded with him.

He shook his head. "I'm afraid not." He responded.

"But why? I thought you were going to stay here all day. Why do you suddenly want to go?" She asked; a frown on her face. She disliked the fact that, after over a decade, she only gets two hours to spend with her brother. Two hours was not enough to make-up for all the lost time.

There was still so much that she had to discuss with him. They were barely over the first year of her marriage with Kukai — closing in on her pregnancy with Amu. She would only allow him to go once she told him of all the important things that he had missed out on, and she managed to uncover some more things about what had gone on with him in the past years.

After all, she only knew the basics — things of which she learned from newspaper articles and the television. Besides what every other one of his fans knew about him, the only new personal thing she's managed to learn was that he was forced to get married.

And that was all. She didn't know the bride-to-be's name, how this happened to be, or how they were both dealing with the situation. Not to mention that if her older brother was getting married — with force or by choice — she wanted an exact date and time so that she could attend the occasion. After all, Ikuto had been the only person there when she and Kukai got married; the least she can do is be there to support his marriage.

Ikuto sighed.

He never liked trying to explain things to Utau. As a child, she never understood why it was that he needed to remove himself from the area, and quickly. Then again, that was somewhat of a blessing in disguise.

But that didn't change the situation. In fact, it made it a little bit worse.

"It's… personal." He said.

"Personal?" Utau repeated. Then, a small light bulb went off in her head. "Oh…" She said softly. "It's about Amu, isn't it?" She asked. She noticed the way the he flinched and looked away from her. Sighing, Utau stood from her seat. "Let's go to the den." She stated.

"The den?" He asked.

"It's in the basement." She said. "It's perfect for private conversations. Come." She said to him. Ikuto silently stood and followed his little sister as she led him to the opposite end of the living room, where there was a dark brown wooden door placed.

When they reached it, she took out a key from the pocket of her pants, and unlocked the door. He raised an eyebrow at this.

"Kukai doesn't like the kids going down there. There was an incident there, a few years back, and since then we've always been careful with the kids." She stated as she opened the door, and flipped the light switch placed next to the door, inside the carpeted stairwell. The place was illuminated with light in under a second.

"Is that what made you so sad, earlier?" Ikuto asked; referring to Utau's comment on spending time with children before it's too late.

Utau closed the door behind her once Ikuto was inside, and led him down the stairs. She sighed. "Yeah… Nadeshiko locked herself in here for a week. We thought she was at summer camp, during that time, but it turns out that she locked herself in when she was searching for a luggage bag." She said; shaking her head at the memory.

"Why didn't the camp report that she was missing?" Ikuto asked.

"I don't know. It's a lousy camp, I guess… Another reason why I don't want Amu going back there this summer — if they're so careless that they can't even inform the parents of a child missing for a week, I don't even _want to_ _know _what would happen if I sent them back there, again. It might be more horrible than before…" She murmured.

She flipped on another light switch and revealed a carpeted, mini-living room. The carpet was a darkish red color, and the furniture held a motif of brown, polished wood. There was also a fireplace and a large, flat screen TV placed over it; with a large bookshelf against the adjacent wall. The furniture was positioned so that the one sitting in either the large brown recliner or its matching loveseat, had a clear view of the entrance and the TV, at the same time.

It vaguely reminded him of his father's den, except there was a certain comfortable element to it. Everywhere there were pictures of the family — Kukai, Utau, and their two children.

There were also trophies and achievement awards in the names of the children, framed on the walls, equally.

Yep. It may resemble the one his father has, but in no way does it have the same vibe. In fact, he was certain that he could spend numerous hours in that room, comfortably, and never want to leave. There was just something about its atmosphere…

They both sat down on the loveseat. The leather sofa was surprisingly soft and comfortable, and the leather didn't get in the way, at all.

"Listen, Ikuto," Utau said softly. "I know that you may feel uncomfortable about Amu, but I promise you that she isn't usually like this — she doesn't normally invade a person's personal space like that." She stated. He tensed as the memory of how she had drank the lemonade in his glass, entered his mind.

God… that annoying brat…

"Don't let her crawl under your skin. She's just that way because she's testing you."

"Testing me?" He asked.

Utau nodded. "Amu doesn't fully trust anyone — not even Kukai and me. From time-to-time, she tests the people around her in a way that she seems fit. I don't know why, though — all I know is that she would put herself or others in situations that test the person's personality. I guess that she was quickly able to determine that you were a rather… closed and silent person, and her tests for you involve getting into your personal space — as close as she possibly can." Utau stated.

Ikuto could hardly believe it.

"Is she really that vigilant?" He asked.

"Yes. Ever since she was little, Amu's been able to notice things about people that even _I _can't pick-up on. It's like… she's a computer and is able to do the most accurate analysis of a person just from looking at their face, a single time. She's been able to learn more about a person in a single look than I can after spending a whole month with them." She stated.

His breath was caught in his throat. His fingers, which were on his lap, were slowly shaking.

"How… how much can she learn about a person?" He asked Utau. Utau wasn't sure why Ikuto would ask her such a question, but decided on answering it, anyway. After all, maybe the more he learned of Amu's behavior, the less-intimidated he would become by her — and the closer he would be to staying longer. It was a win-win situation for her.

"Mostly what makes them tick. At first she'll do a small test to see if you'll take the bait—"

_Me leaving… _

"—then once she collects and saves the data from that, she begins the real examination. She'll put you in another situation that really requires a lot of willpower to pass—"

_Sipping from my drink…_

"—and this will go on for a little while until she finishes her testing. After which, she'll either accept you into her life or completely shut you out. So please, don't be intimidated by Amu. She's not that social of a person and this is her way of deciding who she should trust." Utau said.

But Ikuto didn't hear her. He was too busy processing the information that he had just been told.

That little girl…

She was testing him. She was purposely invading his personal space to see how long it would be before he cracked. That little girl was being manipulative and testing his patience.

It only strengthened his resolve to leave the house.

He wasn't sure of what she was capable of, or what she might learn. If that little girl was smart enough to know exactly what she needed to do in order to drive him crazy, then she was certainly a smart enough child to know exactly what she may learn, and find a way to use it against him.

He was already being blackmailed by his father — he didn't need to add that little girl into the situation.

_I need to go — now! _

"I'm sorry Utau, but I really need to go." He said as he rose from his seat.

"But Ikuto—"

"No. I'm sorry. As much as I would like to stay here a little bit longer and spend more time with you, I really have to go. You see—" He couldn't believe what he was about to do. It was something that he had never done with Utau, and had hoped that he never would need to. But the situation had suddenly morphed into something that could easily threaten his career, and now he had to adapt to it to ensure that everything would remain the same. "—I'm actually on a business trip, and have to get to my meeting. I was only able to stay here for a few hours, and have already extended my visit a little too much."

He felt sick to his stomach.

Not once in his lifetime had he ever lied to his little sister. She was never a person that he had to lie to. Utau and he shared everything when they were younger, and had been completely honest with one another since the day she was born, and he told his new baby sister that her life wouldn't be one that she wanted, but that he'd find a way to make her happy.

It was in that moment, as she smiled up at him, that they trust was established. And now he was breaking it after two-almost-three decades of nothing but pure honestly.

It was sickening how he was the one to do so, being as how he was the one who started it.

"Oh." Utau said; a look of realization coming over her face. "I see… well, I'm glad that you took the time to come visit me, Ikuto. It was really nice to see you again." She said with a smile on her face. It made the fact that he had just lied to her, all the worse. She accepted it as if it were the truth — because she believed that it was.

He wanted to take it back, but what was done was done. If he told Utau that he just lied to her, she would never trust him again. She'd begin to question the strength of their relationship.

And the last thing he wanted was for his sister to become distant with him, and no longer want anything to do with him.

So it was better that she not know that he had lied.

"It was nice to see you too, Utau, and your family. They seem to be perfect for you."

"You know you're my family, too, right Ikuto?" She asked.

He nodded his head.

"I'm glad you think that…" He said softly.

"Come on. I'll walk you upstairs and see you out." She said with a bright smile on her face, as she began to head towards the stairs.

Behind her, he followed silently. With the millions of things that were currently running through his mind, the main one was that, finally, he would get to leave this house. After which he can find a hotel room and stay there for the rest of his week.

Yes his original plans had been ruined by that little girl, but at least he would soon find peace in a place far, far away from her.

* * *

"Leaving already, I see."

She saw him freeze.

They were still in the stairwell and had turned the corner, when they spotted her. She stood there at the top of the steps, with her body straight and her arms crossed as she looked down at the two adults — her eyes fixated on the blue-haired man that was behind her mother.

"Amu, you know you're not supposed to come anywhere near here without Kukai or me." Utau said as she gave her child a bit of a displeased look.

"I know. But I was looking for you, and Dad said to come check the den. I figured that since you were already here, and he knew that I was here, then it was safe to come down here. Although, I'm glad all I had to do was open the door." She stated. Her gaze then moved back to the man.

"Funny. I thought that you would stay a little longer." She said as she looked directly at him. However, his head was titled so that some of his hair covered his eyes. It was obvious that he did not like it when she was around.

"Amu, stop that. You really need to stop testing people. You have no idea how uncomfortable it makes them." Utau stated as she went up the rest of the stairs.

"Oh I know, Mom." She responded.

Utau gave her a stern look.

"Then _stop it_." She stated. She didn't like her daughter being aggressive towards others and making them not like her. Amu could very easily be a social butterfly with a countless amount of friends, and yet she chooses to gain more enemies. She had no idea how many people have come to complain to her about her daughter…

It was disheartening, and made her believe that she was a bad mother — something she was desperately trying not to be.

Amu sighed.

"Don't worry, Mom. You know as well as every other person does, that I don't do anything bad — just small, minor things." She stated.

"But what you do makes people hate you." Utau said bluntly. "I don't want you to not have friends or people who care about you, Amu. But if you keep testing people, that's exactly what's going to happen…" Utau silently said; making sure that Ikuto couldn't hear what she was saying to her daughter.

Amu remained silent and still. Her face didn't show any hint that she was moved by her mother's words. Instead, she sighed and rolled her eyes.

"As if I care." She stated.

Utau frowned.

"Amu—"

"Nagihiko is looking for you, Mom. He says that he needs help changing his clothes." She stated. She didn't miss the way her mother frowned deeply at her before she began to walk towards the stairs that led to the second floor of the house, and heading to go help out the other child.

But she stayed there, in front of the door. And when she was certain that neither her father nor her mother would see her, she entered the stairwell, and closed and locked the door behind her.

Now it was only her and that man. And it seemed that he finally knew this too, with the way his fingers clenched the wooden railing, more tightly. Her knuckles were a light shade of white.

"It's about time that you left." She said to him. "I've been wondering how long you would last here — two hours is a new best. Usually people are only able to stay here for an hour. Mom says it's because I drive them all away with my attitude, but I think it's because they're all _weak_." She said to him. Still he refused to look up at her. Instead, he kept his head low.

And that was bothering her.

While, no, she didn't like when he stared at her without her looking at him, she wouldn't mind him looking at her when she _knew _that his eyes were on her.

Like with the cup.

That was the first time that he had ever, truly looked at her, and it allowed her so much power over him. With him seeing what she was doing, it allowed her movements to be all the more effective.

And she adored that.

So she went down a few flights, until she was almost directly beneath him, and she bent her body forward, closer to his own. She then used her head to lift his own, and then she was finally looking into his blue eyes. She smiled up at him, and heard his breath hitch in his throat, before he gulped.

"It's rude to not look at someone when they're speaking to you, you know." She said to him in a soft voice. And she knew that it only affected him even more, and that he was most likely battling with his inner demons.

Her eyes narrowed into a glare.

"I don't like you." She repeated. "And I want you to leave. Why? Because I _know you_ — I know how you are." She stated. She saw his eyes widen.

"W-what…?" He asked.

"So you do speak…" She said softly. Then she smiled at him. "And yes, I know your little secret. You think I can't see you for who you really are. From the way you looked at me, I _knew _just what made you tick. The one thing that can very easily break you… And I _love _it."

She was certain that his heart sank to his stomach.

Just from the look of pure shock in his eyes, she knew that he finally realized that _she knew_. She knew his greatest weakness, the one thing that could absolutely ruin him if others found-out about him. And she knew that _he knew _that she was smart-enough to know just how much weight she now carried, and how easily she could use it to her advantage.

She had never been an idiotic child. From the moment of her birth she showed a clear understanding of things, and how they worked. How? By testing it, testing it, and testing it again.

She enjoyed looking so deeply into something, and finding out its inner workings, that it satisfied her greatly once she found that she had complete control over it. And studying this man, and testing him, she had done just that.

She controlled him.

He was her play thing, and she could very easily break him.

"Amu!" She heard. The muffled sound came from the other side of the door, and she easily recognized her father's voice. She sighed. _Time to leave… _She thought.

"You should go now." She said to him as she began to remove herself from beneath his tall stature. But as she moved, she noticed how he moved. His head followed her body as she began to walk back up the stairs, backwards, and unlocked the door. "I'm giving you ten minutes to leave — car and all. But it was fun playing with you." She said. Then she opened the door, and stepped out — leaving it open so that it doesn't look suspicious.

She hurried to where her father was; at the front door where one of the few friends that she had at school, Miki, was standing. She was a girl with blue hair and blue eyes. She had a tomboyish style with the slightly baggy blue jeans that she wore, and the white male dress shirt that she had on. Her long blue hair was hidden behind the blue, large artist beret that she always wore, with a large blue spade placed on the left side of it. Her usual blue, somewhat spade-shaped artist bag was slung over her torso, and she had a small smile on her face.

"Hello Amu." She said. Amu smiled.

"Miki." She greeted. "Hello."

"Are you ready to go to the park today?" Miki asked her.

"Actually, I just need to change my clothes a little." She stated; tugging on the edges of the shorts that she was wearing. "Do you think you can wait a little while?" She asked.

"Of course." Miki responded.

"Great." Amu said. "Come in, please." She said. As Miki entered, she began to walk up the stairs. On her way, she caught a glimpse of that man finally exiting the stairwell to the den. Miki noticed as well.

"Who's that?" Her friend asked her.

Amu took a moment to ponder how to respond to that. She wanted to call him her toy, but she still wasn't sure whether she would get to play with him often. So she decided on calling him what he really was.

"Some guy."

* * *

He felt as if he couldn't breathe. His chest was tight, and the hand that was there dug into his clothing, and bunched the fabric of his cotton, navy blue shirt that he wore on that day. His head was pounding, with his mouth slightly agape.

Never in his life had he experienced such a shock.

Never in his life would he have assumed such a thing to happen. Every time that he had imagined a situation similar to it happening, not once had it hit him as a possibility that a little girl would be the one to hold the ability to bring him to his downfall.

A little girl…

Life was a bitch.

He could feel his heartbeat beneath his fingertips, and that was the only thing ensuring him that he was alive, and had not died and gone to Hell. For, to him, that was the only way that his body could process the information — to make him believe that he was just experiencing a terrible nightmare, and in a few moments, when he awoke, all of it would disappear and he'd wake-up either in his room, or in the back porch of Utau's home.

Yet as time passed, he slowly processed that he was not dreaming, but fully awake. His mind had not been playing cruel tricks at him, but simply been so stunned, itself, that it could not separate fantasy from reality.

And now it had. Now he could clearly see that his worst nightmare has become his reality…

His life.

This was _actually happening_ to him.

His body started to shake, and his throat was dry. He swallowed a large lump of spit, and as it went down his throat, he took in a deep breath. His hands clutched the nearest thing and he found himself digging his blunt fingernails into the plaster wall outside of the staircase. How he got there, he was unsure.

His breaths came out quick and heavy; causing him to get slightly light-headed. His blue eyes were shut, painfully, as he tried to keep himself calm.

But it was a failed battle. He was suffering from an anxiety attack; something he hasn't had since _that_ day, as a child.

_Kami…_ He thought as his legs gave-out, and he kneeled in the stairwell. _Why do I have to be tortured this way? Haven't I suffered enough? Haven't I dealt with enough tragedy in my life? Why? Why must I be cursed?_

It was getting harder to breathe, and he could feel his grip on the material world, loosening by the second. He was certain that at any moment, he would stumble back into the staircase, begin to roll down the stairs. Maybe then he would find a little peace, he mused, unconscious and lying on a floor.

He couldn't. He simply couldn't.

He still wasn't ready. Even after all these years, he still wasn't ready to enter a situation that resembled the one of his past, in the slightest. Fate, however, saw otherwise and decided to torment his prematurity.

How? It sent in a copy — a vision of his past.

It was clear to him, the similarities, now that the little girl had gotten close to him. And it was killing him — stabbing him in the heart as he realized this. He knew, then and there, that it is his downfall. If he didn't leave the house soon, he had no clue just _what _it is that he might do.

"Ikuto?" The soft voice of his sister reached his ears. But he could not be able to turn to her. He was too focused on the headache that he was gaining. "A-are you alright?"

Utau watched with horrified purple eyes as her brother began to bang his head against the wall. She had never seen him do such a thing. Yes she's seen Ikuto become ill, before, but never like this.

_What is going on? _She thought. But she had no time to ponder on the events as he began to fall forward.

"Ikuto!" She shouted. She immediately ran to him, and caught his body as he fell onto the carpeted floor. It was clear by the expression on his face, and the heaviness of his body that her brother was unconscious. He had fainted. "Oh my god…" She said aloud as she tried to put his body into a more comfortable position in her arms. "Why… why is this happening?"

"Utau! Is everything alright?" Moments later, Kukai stood at her side. He had headed there after hearing the distinct cry of his wife. It immediately worried him, and he couldn't help but rush to her location. Luckily, he had been in the living room so it did not take much to find them. However, he did not expect the scene he came upon. "What happened?"

"I don't know." Utau said. "He just fainted."

"Do you want me to call an ambulance?" He asked as he began to pull Ikuto into his arms. He was glad that he worked-out regularly. Ikuto was not a lightweight male, and he knew that Utau wouldn't be able to move him the rest of the way up the stairs, if she tried.

"No." Utau said; surprising Kukai. He would've thought that she'd want to get him medical attention, immediately. He was her older brother, after all. And not once had she stopped mentioning just how much she loved him, and would do anything that she could to ensure that he was healthy and happy. "I think it's best if he just stays here. Besides, Ikuto never liked hospitals. Sending him to one would just put him in a worse humor." She stated.

"Okay then." Kukai said; not one to argue with his wife about her side of the family, when it was clear that she was the expert when it came to them. He groaned slightly as Ikuto was placed on his back, and he jumped forward to get into a standing position. Ikuto was heavier than he looked.

"Put him the guest room. I'll be down in just a few moments with some tea." She said. She and Kukai began to head in opposite directions as he walked further down the staircase, and into the basement. The guest room was remotely set-up down there.

But it was nonetheless homey than the rest of the house.

"Alright." The man disappeared as he turned the corner and began to walk to the den. Meanwhile, Utau scurried to the kitchen. A frown marred her face.

She hadn't remembered it immediately, but now she did. Her brother had an anxiety attack. What the cause of it was, she could not decipher, and she remembered little of it from when the two were young. She did, however, remember that one of the things that soothed him was jasmine tea with wild-berries and dashes of honey along with a single drop of hot milk.

The sweetness, for some reason, calmed him.

She easily retrieved her tea kettle, and filled it with hot water. She placed it on the stove and let it begin to boil while she retrieved the missing ingredients.

_Ikuto… _She thought as she found the teabags. Thankfully, there was one left in an otherwise empty box. _What caused this?_ She racked her mind for possibilities, but couldn't determine anything that might cause the attack. Perhaps it was just stress, she told herself. He was overwhelmed with the current events going on in his life, and the pressure had finally caught-up with him.

"Hey mom…" Her daughter, Amu, began as she entered the kitchen.

"What is it, Amu?" Utau asked as she began to cut the berries into small pieces. While they held more flavors when they were whole, the berry essence only needed to be mild, and weren't that important. _For flavor_, her grandmother, who taught her the recipe, had said they were for.

"I'm going to the park with Miki." Amu said. Her eyes quickly landed on the boiling pot of tea. "What are you doing?"

"Making some tea for Ikuto." She said. She got-out the wand for the honey, and drizzled some of it over the chopped berries. She wished she had the time to freeze the honey on the berries; it allowed the fruits to absorb the taste and become so delicious. But Ikuto was waiting for her in the guest room, and she would not waste time on small things that aren't necessary.

"Tea?" Amu repeated; her curiosity piqued. "Why?"

"He has a headache. Don't worry — I'll be sure to get rid of it."

_Lies…_ Amu couldn't help but think. She knew that he had no headache. He had shown no signs of it, earlier, and appeared to be in full-health those times that the two have been in the same area. There had also been nothing to occur that could have caused his head to begin pounding. He had no headache. It was something _else_, and she had a feeling she knew what it was…

"That's good. Well, I'm off — I'll be back before dark." She stated as she began to exit the kitchen, and return to her previous position beside her friend.

On the way out the door, she could not help but wonder just in what state that man was. How was his posture? His appearance? Was he sweating? Vomiting? Perhaps even screaming or cursing wildly? Or was he calm and just with a simple headache? She wished she could examine her effect on him, further, but knew that she should not get close to him until he was stabilized.

After all, it was no fun breaking a person down if they had already crumbled.

* * *

.

.

.

* * *

End. I know that some of you were hoping for some Rima and Nagihiko moments, and I apologize that those moments will not occur, but the reason is not only because Rima, as a whole character, is not being used; there is more to it than that — something of which will be revealed in around the next two chapters. But I promise that I will include their original essence in order to fill your need for them. Any who, what did you think? I would _really _like some critique on this chapter because it made me nervous, and I got quite a few blanks writing scenes that I wanted to add, but ended-up taking out. I think it's better, but a review or two (or _more_) would be the perfect way to show that my efforts were not… frivolous. So, please review!

Next chapter: Flashbacks. A look into Ikuto's life from when he was a child, including some hints as to why he reacted so strongly to Amu being close. Any guesses?

Xoxoxo Chibi Star Vamp


	4. Origin

Hello. I know that it has been quite some time since I've last updated, but I've taken the liberty of working on some other projects and working on updates for stories that I haven't done anything for, for quite some time now. However, this has not swerved me from my responsibilities, and I have been looking forward to writing more of this. Slowly I'm piecing everything together and building it up to the end.

I have taken some suggestions, and decided that this chapter will be all about Ikuto's past — the events of his childhood that have led to his infamous _disease_. I hope this will suit you all and make you happy.

Disclaimer: I do not own the original _Shugo Chara!_ characters. I only own my own characters, as well as the use of the plot.

Lolita was originally written by Vladimir Nabokov. This is my adaptation/version of it.

Enjoy!

* * *

_He couldn't say he'd remembered much of his childhood, given how he preferred to block that part of his life, as he focused on the future and was desperate to bury the past, seven feet (or more) beneath the ground and cover it in impenetrable concrete._

_But every now and then, there was always __something__ that made him think back to those times._

_To the moments where he and Utau had to follow the rules of society set by their parents, and could never truly see the light at the end of the tunnel. (The tunnel had been so covered by rocks that not a sliver of the star's light could make it through, unless a piece of the rock wall that covered it, chipped away by some unknown force)._

_To a time where he lived mainly in solitude as he tried his best to meet his parents' standards — to a time where he __cared__ about what his emotionless father and snooty mother thought of him and his life-choices._

_And he supposed that it was because of that fact that he never had any true human contact with people of his own age (besides Utau, of course, but he never truly counted her as a human as much as he did as his little sister — yes, he, at that time, considered them to be two very different things) that made his first experience of being with another young child, such an important moment in his life._

_It was a moment that led to the biggest struggle in his lifetime that, while he managed to suppress very easily, never went away. Because never will he forget __that__…_

* * *

.

.

.

* * *

Lolita

_**Chapter 4: Origin**_

***By Chibi Star Vamp***

* * *

.

.

.

* * *

It annoyed him.

It annoyed him to the point where he had, on several occasions, weighed the option of unlocking the car door, jumping out onto the street, and running back to his home where he would find solace in the solitude of being alone and watching his favored program.

His eyes glanced at the door, once again. Between it and him was his father — a tall, structured male who had maintained quite the physique in his years of living. His hair was long and flat as it hung on his head, a few inches above his shoulder blade; just barely touching it. It looked somewhat messy with the way the shiny blue hair just stayed there and yet covered him in such an attractive way. His face was matured and long, clearly having been sculpted well after hitting puberty _years ago_. Yet this fact was hard to pick-up on due to his youthful look.

His black lashes were long and dusted his cheeks as he blinked every now and then. His eyes remained half-lidded in a somewhat bored look. But he, being his son, knew that look quite well.

His father was thinking of music; of a way to compose notes into something so magical, that he was highly envious of the fact that he couldn't do that, nor shrink down and enter his father's head to hear just what it was that the man was skillfully composing in his invisible, soundless imagination.

The man was impeccably dressed in one of his regular suits. A white shirt, dark black jacket and matching slacks, along with shiny, black, imported loafers that, honestly, he had thought of scuffing and ruining, many times.

(Of course, these thoughts occurred when he wasn't thinking like a _good little boy_, and was in a rather defiant streak).

His father was older, taller, stronger, and could surely hold him back as he tried to make his escape. It meant that his thought at going through _that door_ was a bust, but, turning his head, he began to think of his other source of escape. Turning his head to the left, he looked at the people who sat between him, and the other door.

The closest was his little sister, Utau, who had taken a seat beside him in the car. Their parents had seemingly trained her well and decided that she was too old for a car seat.

(Yes, he thought albeit sarcastically, _four_ years of age really _is_ too old, despite what the law says…)

She sat prettily with her blonde hair tied up into two pigtails, with a beautiful white ribbon holding it together. The locks had been brushed and curled to perfection, and shined nicely in the dim car lighting.

She had been dolled-up in a beautiful white summer dress with green lining, and a small green sweater. Her socks were white and frilly, and her shoes were shiny and white, along with a small heel. Her chubby face was rather emotionless as she sat in the seat, the belt tight as it stayed on her waist, and she probably thought of nothing more than, like him, escaping.

Despite only being four, they both sometimes had conversations of taking all their stuff and leaving. Leaving behind their father, mother, _the world_, and going to a place that they'd only read about in fairytales.

But they both knew that the odds of that happening were slim; their parents made sure to crush any hope of there being any _somewhere_ over the rainbow, effectively.

Yet, her solemn face told him that she, too, was thinking, and her age also spoke to him: he could take her. And not in the way where he would push her aside as an attempt to make his great escape, but in the way where she wouldn't be heavy at all if he decided to take her away from this Hell hole… car, and make his way back to the house with her.

She, too, wasn't pleased with the trip and wanted to stay at the house, like he wished, and do something other than waiting for an impending boredom.

So she was no problem when it came to his master escape plan.

Who he truly had to be wary of, was the woman that sat on the other side of his sister, blocking the door, itself.

She was a beautiful woman. Tall, slim, but shapely, and with soft, lovely little features that gave her a naturally young look. Her skin was soft and light, and her eyes were the most beautiful shade of purple **(a/n: I have no clue what color her eyes are; so I'm just giving her Utau's eye color. Does anyone know?)** that he'd ever seen. They were momentarily hidden when her curled, black eyelashes touched her soft cheeks.

Her lips were plump yet slim, and a soft pink color. Her long blonde hair reached down to her back, and was currently pulled up into a ponytail that hung rather… professionally on her back. In her ears shone simple, pearl earrings — something of which he found odd.

His mother had always worn diamond earrings; shined, cut to perfection, and ever-so-dazzling, as they shone in the light while being held securely into their platinum setting by three, small tongs.

Yet, she was dressed much more simply today; not just jewelry-wise. The dress she wore was a soft blue color, with thick straps as it rested against her shoulders. The dress wasn't embellished in jewels or held some elaborate sewing design that he could only _ponder_ on how long it had taken the person to create it, to sew it in since she refused to wear anything machine-created.

Her heels were white and regular straps that just went across her foot and not in some highly complicated pattern. The sweater she was wearing was a simple, black, long-sleeved sweater made of material perfect for the summer heat.

It was the most _normal_ he's ever seen her dress.

But despite her appearance, he was certain that she could hold him back. His mother was many things, but physically weak was not one of them. The woman could pull him up by his collar to get him up to her level, as if he were one of her purses.

So no. He probably couldn't take on his mother, and he most definitely couldn't escape out of the front doors since there was a glass there that separated their family from the driver.

He didn't have the physical strength to break that; especially since it was safety glass and he was just seven.

No escape. There was no escape.

He was trapped in that metal monster until it came to a stop and he was allowed to leave. And that very much pissed him off; especially since he had an impeccable sense of time and he knew that the program that he desperately wanted to watch, was starting. Which sucked, because the beginning was always one of the best parts…

He tried not to frown, because he knew that his mother would be on his case in a matter of seconds, but it was hard not to when he could hear the cluster of musical instruments in his mind, and how the conductor melded them together in a way that pleased nearly all of his senses.

So his lips turned from their solemn, flat line, to where the edges were slightly tilted downward.

And like he expected, she caught-on in a millisecond.

"Ikuto, do not frown." She said to him in a clipped tone. "You cannot have them thinking that you do not wish to be there. That is rude and not something that a child of mine will do." He exhaled silently and made his face expressionless once more.

This pleased her, and she turned her attention from him, to his little sister who was tugging at her ponytails.

"Utau…" His sister immediately stopped; trying not to frown.

He wished that the car would stop. Not so he could run away, but just so that he wouldn't have to be in the same, closed space as these two people who controlled every little thing that he and his sister did. She should be allowed to play with her hair and he should be allowed to frown. It didn't matter. They were things that children naturally did — did they not see that?

Clearly, they did not, because his mother continued to nitpick them on the smallest of things — him licking his dry lips, his sister exhaling too loudly, and both of them trying to act humane and frown, instead of being robotic and without feelings — on their journey in the car.

Finally, they pulled into a neighborhood filled with big houses, and it wasn't long before they were parked in front of a large house that was decorated for the holiday season.

Funny… he'd almost forgotten that Christmas was a week away.

His mother went-on to stating rules that the two of them should follow while they visited these people. It wasn't because his mother thought highly of these people, it was just because she wanted to maintain a certain image of them and present it to all of society. A picture that she would go to the ends of the Earth to maintain, even if it meant replacing her entire family (he was sure of it).

They exited the vehicle, and he made sure to hold onto his little sister's hand as hard as he possibly could without hurting her. Not because he was afraid of her running and doing something idiotic, but because he didn't want her to get lost in his family's image, and remember that she wasn't the only one who was suffering. He was there for her, and he would stay there.

It was a small comfort, but a huge security.

"Hoshina-san is… mean." Utau whispered. And it broke his heart that she had to refer to their mother in such a formal way. But that was it. That was what their mother asked of them… that is, until they were in the eyes of the public.

"I know…" He said lowly. "But I promise it will get better…"

"When?" He gulped.

"I… do not know, but it _will_." He said. It was a promise that would take a lot of work, but he'd work until his sister had a better life. Not him, but her, _just her_.

* * *

The people they were visiting were his father's new business partners. He was unsure of just what the man did with his father, but he didn't necessarily care. He was just one of many that wanted an opportunity at becoming big in the music industry; his father was a highly-rated violinist, after all.

The man was tall, slim, and despite his big house, he seemed to live a modest life. The atmosphere of the two-story home was much calmer, more comforting, and _natural_ than that at his house, and he enjoyed how there was life breathed into the place with the simple application of a few family photos here and there, instead of vases of flowers and artwork.

He had a wife that was certainly much nicer than his mother, because she greeted them with a smile and had such a high look of hope in her eyes that he, sadly, found it odd; he wasn't used to that shine or warmth that they radiated.

The woman wasn't dressed as extravagant as his mother, and he found that he liked that. She had a dog with her that greeted them happily. But even as he petted the large, brown and white animal that was surely the friendliest creature that he had ever seen, he knew that his mother disliked the fact that he and Utau were both petting it, rubbing its belly, and receiving kissed from it every now and then.

"Why don't you kids go out to have fun in the backyard with Inu?" She kindly suggested. "There's really no reason for you to stay inside, and the backyard has a lot more things to do."

"Can we?" Utau asked their mother, rubbing the dog's belly while she wagged her tail. Utau had the brightest smile on her face that he'd ever seen.

"I see no problem with it." Their mother said. But he knew that she didn't like the fact that they were going out in the world, where there was dirt and they could possibly get messy, and wouldn't be supervised by her because she would surely stay inside to entertain the kind woman. And he was glad. It was moments like these, where she was _forced_ to let them act like normal children and do the things that kids did, that he enjoyed most. That was why he thanked the woman and then left the house with Utau and Inu, who pulled them towards a sand box that held several toys in them.

"Wow… they have a swing." Utau said as her eyes immediately landed on the swing that hung from a tree branch.

"Do you want me to push you on it?" He asked her.

Despite her eyes showing that she wanted nothing more but to play on the swing, his little sister shook her head — and then immediately to work on fixing her ponytails. "No. My dress might get dirty and then Hoshina-san—"

"Come on." He said, grasping her hand and leading her towards the swing.

"B-but… Onii-san—"

"She's not here." He said; purposely using contractions to show that their mother had no way of stopping them. (She thought that morphing words together was _barbaric_ and shouldn't be done). "What is she gonna do? Pull you off? What would that woman think of her?" When they reached the swing, he didn't bother dusting it. He lifted Utau and set her on it.

"B-but—"

"Are you really gonna pass up your one chance to be a _child_?" He asked her. "To have fun like other little girls and play on swings and with dogs without caring what their mother thought because it was something they are _supposed to do_?" He asked.

He watched as she looked down at the paw that Inu had placed on her dress. The dog then moved it as it picked-up on something, and left a dirt smudge. Utau's instincts immediately feared what her mother would think, but then she thought that her older brother was right. Opportunities like this were one-in-a-million and _who knew_ how long it would be before she got another chance to be a little girl?

"Onii-san, can you push me really high so that I can touch the sky?" She asked him. Ikuto smiled softly.

"I don't know if you'll reach the sky, but I'll try my best."

* * *

When Utau had grown a little bored of the swing, and wanted to play with Inu, Ikuto happily let her do as she pleased while she ran, jumped, and fell on the ground while she played with the pet. His heart swelled with happiness as she began to laugh while Inu licked her happily.

It was a rare moment when she laughed, which was sad, because her laugh was one of the most beautiful sounds that he'd ever heard. Her face was bright with happiness as she showed her teeth — one of which he knew was missing, but looked as if it was still there due to the flipper that his mother had gotten for her, like she had done for him.

He had half-a-mind to tear it off and show the world that his sister was missing a tooth — that she was a child.

But he didn't. Because it was something minor.

Instead, he sat by the side lines and watched with a happy atmosphere around him as Utau began to race Inu. It was as she passed the glass door back into the house, that he finally spotted a lone figure there. It was small, probably around his age, and had light pink hair that naturally faded into blonde when it reached past her shoulders. It was clutching onto the glass door and peeking rather shyly into the backyard.

He narrowed his eyes; who was that?

Amidst the happy sounds of Utau and Inu, he was able to pick-up the kind woman's voice as she showed-up behind the young person, and urged it to go into the backyard. The person was hesitant, but eventually showed themselves to him.

He was surprised to see a small girl; hair straight and blended soft pink to soft yellow as it went down to her tiny waist in loose strands. Her bangs were cut down to the middle of her forehead, and her eyes were a bright, gold color. She was wearing a simple, loose white dress and had white slippers on. There was a flush on her cheeks as she looked down and approached him; another dog, bigger than her and of a dark, black color, right behind her.

Utau noticed the girl, too, and went to her. He decided to do the same, and stood from the swing as he walked-over to the sweet-looking-girl; who was twiddling with her fingers and not making eye-contact. It somewhat bothered him that she wasn't looking at him, but he liked it at the same time.

It meant that she had the freedom to do as she pleased; she had what he currently didn't: a childhood.

"My name i—name's Tsukiyomi Utau." Utau said. He momentarily smiled at how she used a contraction to show just how happy she was to be out of their mother's gaze. "I'm four-years-old." She said.

"Hiya…" The little girl said rather tentatively. "My name's Aimi. I'm… uh… this many." She counted on her fingers to the number six, and then showed her hands to them. "Six."

Both he and Utau were a little surprised that this girl was unable to say her age without counting on her fingers. And he'd admit that it made him look down on her a bit. She was… less intelligent than he. And while he didn't want to judge her, he couldn't help but think that, because she didn't have the education that he had, she was therefore less worthy.

It was a sickening thing to do, but he was _trained_ to do so.

"My name's Ikuto. Tsukiyomi Ikuto." He said, while reaching out with a hand. She looked at it and the back up at him, with a strange look in her gold eyes.

"Why… are you holding it out?"

"You shake it; it's a greeting." He stated. He couldn't believe that she was unaware of what a handshake was. He'd honestly never heard of a person not knowing how to shake someone's hand. She was… odd.

"I know that." She said; suddenly losing her timid attitude as she grew a bit bolder and frowned at him. "I just mean… why, though? We're not big — we don't shake hands." She said.

It was clear to him that the handshake would not occur, and he lowered his hand once again to rest at his side. The girl, Aimi, went back to twiddling with her fingers. He watched as she seemed to move them in a rather intricate way; as if she was trying to weave something out of the air. And watching them move, with her blunt fingernails that were clearly bitten-off, he wondered what was _wrong_ with her.

"So… uh… what're you guys doing?" She asked.

"We were playing with your dog. She's really nice." Utau said. She hadn't picked-up on the things that Ikuto was seeing, and therefore had a rather positive view of this girl. She was also glad that there was another female with them. It'd been such a long time since she had a feminine companion close to her age, since she was usually always with adults and being _perfect_.

"Yeah. Inu is really fun, and smart; she brings me my toys and things when I need them. But Arata is fun to ride since he's a Great Dane and big and stuff. Wanna try?" She asked Utau.

There was a moment of hesitance in both of them as they glanced at the surely fully-grown dog that was bigger than Utau, and maybe even bigger than Ikuto. Even standing low on its four legs, did it probably reach a bit above Ikuto's head… And it was intimidating. How could he let his little sister ride such a big dog like that?

"I don't think that's safe." Ikuto said.

Aimi rolled her eyes. "Well that's lame. If you're worried about her falling and getting an owie, don't worry — Arata is really nice and stuff. He won't let her fall — watch." They were stunned silent as she began to climb on the big dog. Ikuto felt rather embarrassed when he caught a glimpse of her green panties. His eyes widened as he blushed a bit; hadn't her parents ever taught her to wear shorts or leggings whenever she wore dresses? Something to prevent… _that_ from happening? He also didn't appreciate her comment. It sounded as if she was judging him, and he disliked being judged.

He heaved a sigh through his nose and watched as she patted the large dog on its back, and the animal took off much like a racehorse. He and Utau were stunned silent as she rode him around the backyard, and then came to a stop before them.

"See? Arata is a really good boy. He won't let you get hurt Utau-chan." Aimi said. Utau immediately looked towards her older brother and spoke to him while Aimi got off of Arata.

"Onii-san…" She said softly, so that Aimi couldn't hear. "She called me by my name… is that, _okay_?" They'd never been addressed by their names, unless it was their parents speaking to them. Not even the few children that they mingled with would call them by their name; formally using their surnames. It was quite an oddity for them to come across someone who didn't do that, and Utau was unsure of how to react.

Ikuto was, as well, and shrugged.

"I'm not sure. Just… act natural. Don't make her feel bad." He said to her. Utau nodded her head.

"So… can I go on the dog?" She asked. There was some hope in Utau's bright purple eyes. She had seemed to enjoy watching Aimi ride around on Arata as if he were a horse. And since she very much liked horses, she wanted to ride on the dog, as well; she just wasn't sure if her brother would allow her to.

Ikuto saw this, and decided that as long as Arata didn't do anything that he believed was too dangerous — like he went at a reasonable, slow pace — Utau could ride on him.

"Okay." He said. "Come on. I'll help you on."

"Wait a minute." Aimi said; stopping the siblings. "You can't just _ride_ him like that. You have to let him get to know you better. If you go on him now, he might throw you off or something." She said.

"Well… how does she let him get to know her?" Ikuto asked.

"Play with him, silly. Go on. Arata, fetch!" Arata ran to the sandbox and both he and Inu got a bucket full of toys, and brought them over to the children. "Play with him. Let him get to know your scent and learn that you're not mean. _Then_ you can ride him like a pony." She said.

Utau nodded her head and grabbed one of the plastic buckets filled with toys. It was the red one that Arata had in his mouth, and he managed to get a whiff of her scent as she did so. Utau took the chance to pet him, and while Arata was a little stiff at first, he let Utau touch him. That's when they began to play, and Utau found that playing with two dogs was better than one.

* * *

"So what do you like to play?" Aimi asked Ikuto. While he leaned against the tree's large trunk, she was swinging on her swing-set. It had been awfully quiet, and since she didn't like the silence very much, she decided to try and make conversation.

"I don't play games." Ikuto said.

"Really?" Aimi asked. There was a confused look on her face; what kind of child didn't play _games_? "Well… what do you do for fun?" She asked him; making the question broader.

"I watch concertos on TVs and compose music."

"Yuck!" Aimi exclaimed; sticking out her tongue. "That's something that grown-ups do. Your life is boring." She said. At this, Ikuto couldn't help the narrowing of his eyes.

"That's very rude." He said to her.

"I really _don't care_. Besides, it's _weird_. You're a kid and you're doing something that big people do. Don't you think that's weird? Like, you don't even play games or do anything _fun_. That's really, really sad." She said.

Ikuto sighed deeply; not liking the way she made his life sound. Yet he knew that she had every right to conclude something like that. After all, it was true. He really did do things that an adult would do, and had very little child influence in his life. But it wasn't his fault. There was very little he could do about it — just try to make the best of it, and that was what he did when he indulged himself into music.

But to this girl, that was too _boring_. Not his fault that she had a childhood and he was stuck trying to preserve that of his sister.

"Hmph." He said.

"Hey, don't get so grumpy. I'm sorry if you don't like what I say, but it's true. You should do something — you should have fun. Don't you play with your friends?" At his silence, she looked at him and saw that his head was titled downward and his arms were crossed over his chest. The expression of his face made her feel bad about what she said — he didn't have friends… did he? "You… don't have anyone to play with…" She said.

Ikuto remained motionless.

Aimi stopped swinging and hopped off. She then went over to him and grabbed his hands. He looked up at her and was momentarily taken aback by how close she was to him. Her face was barely a foot away from his — six-to-eight inches, he assumed — and her eyes managed to capture him.

They were so… gold. They were such an amazing golden color. Not dull, but pure and bright. It wasn't even that gold — it looked more like light was shining so brightly from her eyes, that she was trying to illuminate him. They looked like a portal to him. A portal into her heart because he could very much see just how badly she felt about what she had said, and it was overwhelming to see this much emotion in someone's eyes.

"I'm sorry." She said; her eyes looking a bit watery as she spoke. But he could barely register her words with those shining, life-filled orbs looking into his own eyes. (Briefly he wondered what she saw in his eyes… Could she see _his_ emotions reflected from them, the way he could see in her?).

"About what?" He asked.

"That I was being mean… and kinda nosy. I didn't know that you had no friends… that must be sad…" She said softly.

At the tone in her voice, his eyes grew hard and he pulled away from her. He could feel himself growing defensive due to the look of pity in her eyes. He would not be pitied — that was not something that he would accept now, or ever.

"Hmph." He said. "My life is fine. It's not sad at all." He said.

"But… you're not a kid. You're a little grown-up."

"So? I'm mature for my age, is that really so bad?" He asked. "At least I'm educated and don't act as if I am a big baby, like you." Her eyes widened and her lips pulled apart as she gasped. She then frowned at him.

"That's mean. I'm trying to be nice and apologize. Why are you such a big meanie?" She asked.

"See? That's exactly what I mean. What kind of six-year-old says _meanie_? That's not even a real word." She placed her hands on her hips and her light-filled orbs grew angry and hard. She began to pout; a childish thing to do, but he found it to be an entertaining sight.

And, oddly, _cute_.

"Pfft! All the kids in my class say it. You'd know that if you ever went to school." She said.

"I do go to school." He responded.

"Really? A _normal_ school with other kids and teachers and stuff? Because, like, home-schooling doesn't count you moron! If you went to normal school, you'd have friends unless you're all snobby and junk…" She said to him.

Ikuto didn't respond, but instead kicked a rock that suddenly became the most interesting thing in the backyard.

That was all the answer Aimi needed.

"Hmph! I _knew _it. You don't go to school — a normal school. No wonder you're all a big meanie. You don't know how to act." He was ready to say something defensive that he was certain would make her cry, when she grasped onto his hand and smiled up at him. He didn't know why, but he suddenly got a fuzzy feeling in his stomach.

"From now on, _I'm_ your teacher and I'll show you how to be normal." She said. He frowned lightly at her.

"I am normal."

"But you have no friends and a person with no friends isn't normal. So I'm also your friend, and we're gonna start doing some really cool and awesome friend stuff like having sleepovers and going camping and…"

While he continued to listen to her list things that friends would do, Ikuto wasn't sure how to feel about it. He wanted to crush her built-up little fantasy and tell her that after today, they would most likely never see each other ever again. He was only at her house so that his father could conduct business with her own, and never again would he need to step foot into their simple home.

Yet the fantasies that she was creating before his eyes sounded nice and pleasant. He wouldn't deny that he's been wanting some of the childhood luxuries that she was speaking of. And that a part of him wished that they were possible, but he knew all-too-well how his family worked, and was one-hundred-percent certain sure that the things she was saying — of spending time with him, having fun, and being his _friend_ — were highly unlikely… but it was nice to dream.

* * *

_Despite his skepticism, Aimi ended-up becoming a regular at his household, and he often visited her. Their parents began to work closely together, and this allowed her to try and carry-out her plan of teaching him how to be 'normal'._

_She mainly focused on having fun with him, and managed to convince his parents to allow him to sleepover at her house, and go with her to amusement parks and other places._

_It was odd for him, to spend so much time with one person as they showed both he and Utau what it was like to be a child. And several times, he declined her invitations because they were getting too out of his comfort zone, and he wasn't sure how he would handle himself._

_But she always managed to convince him to go, one way or another. That was the thing about her. She was persistent. And her persistence made him slowly start to like her more and more. And it wasn't long before he considered a friend._

_Yet he was clueless to the fact that one of their infamous outings landed her with a fatal consequence. All they'd done was have an adventure in the woods near her neighborhood park. And that had apparently landed her with something very, very terrible._

_Something that would lead to heartbreak…_

_He first noticed it the following Christmas of the next year, when she was scheduled to come over to his house and celebrate the holidays with him…_

* * *

"Where is she?" Ikuto couldn't help but ask his mother, as he patiently waited for the arrival of his best friend. He was holding a large box in his hands — her present — and was more-than-eager to give it to her. He wanted to see her face, especially her eyes, light-up when she saw what he had gotten for her…

"Calm down Ikuto." Souko said as she continued to make sure that her house looked pleasantly decorated with many holiday-themed objects. So far, it looked fine. Completely unlike what their house was, last Christmas, when it was completely bare and void of any holiday-spirited decorations. She continued to tinker with the star on the Christmas tree as she tried to get the angle right. She'd have one of their house servants to do it, but she had sent them all away for the holidays… (It was something that she had never done, before). "I am certain that they will arrive soon. Now, stop fussing and fix your appearance. And remember, I do not want you and that girl to do anything… ridiculous. _She has no boundaries_…" She muttered beneath her breath, but Ikuto still managed to catch it.

And it made him frown. He didn't like the fact that his mother was speaking badly of the one person whom he considered to be his friend. (Again, Utau was still his little sister and it was difficult to see her as anything more than that — someone whom he would always love and care, and _save_).

He wanted to speak-out against her comments towards Aimi, but all thoughts of his mother were pushed-out of his mind as he heard the doorbell ring.

_She's here._ He thought as he placed the gift down, and went to open the door. Utau had heard the bell ring, as well, and was trying to beat him there. But he was bigger, older, and faster than she was, and managed to get there before her. Utau pouted at this.

"I want to greet her first." She said; his little sister had developed quite the loving relationship with Aimi, to the point where she considered Aimi her older sister. He knew that she was about as eager as he was, to see her.

But he wanted to see Aimi _more_.

"Maybe." He responded.

"What? Onii-san!" She exclaimed. He shushed her and then grabbed the doorknob and opened the door. He smiled at Aimi's parents, and greeted them. "Hello Miyake-sans." He said.

"Hello Ikuto. Hello Utau." Mrs. Miyake said with another warm smile on her face.

"Hello Miyake-san. Where is Aimi-san?" Utau asked. To both of their disappointments, Aimi wasn't with her parents. There was a distinct lack in her presence that caused his mood to lower from the happy and excited state that it had been in, a few moments ago.

"Oh… I know how much you children were looking forward to spending your first holiday with Aimi, but I'm afraid to say that she's fallen ill and was unable to come." Mrs. Miyake said to them all. It was sad news to hear — especially since it regarded Aimi's health. A million questions popped into Ikuto's head as he heard this news.

Was she okay?

What was wrong?

Was it serious? Or something minor?

Was it a virus? Bacteria? The common flu? Or something worse?

When would she get better? How long was the recovery time? The treatment? Would she be fine by tomorrow? Next week? Next month?

A part of him was pointing out that he was blowing things out of proportion, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. Aimi, his best friend, was _sick_. He had every right in the world to worry about the person who seemed to single-handedly make his life better — the life he had craved for.

He felt the sudden urge to leave his home, go to her house, and nurse her back to health. It was a foreign feeling, but it was there and growing larger and larger in his chest. He held back on his barrage of questions, though, knowing that her parents probably couldn't answer them all at once, or at the moment; so he instead settled upon a simple, easy-to-answer question.

"Is she going to be okay? Can I go to visit her?" They were two questions, but they were average questions that would require average answers.

"She's going to be fine. It's just a fever." Mrs. Miyake said. "And if your parents say that it's okay, you can come visit her tomorrow, if you'd like." And because she knew that the little girl would ask, Mrs. Miyake turned to Utau and said, "You too, sweetheart. You can come as well."

Utau smiled at the woman and nodded her head. "Thank you." She said.

"Yes. Thank you." He replied.

He was glad that she was giving him permission to see Aimi. He was afraid of what she may be suffering through, home alone (well, most likely with a nanny or nurse of some sort, but without the love and attention of her family) on the most family-orientated day of the year. He disliked that he couldn't speak with her and watch her face as he gave her his present. But he supposed that giving it to her as a get-well-soon gift would be much better.

He let the Miyake Family, minus one, inside and after closing the door, he took their coats while Utau led them to the living room. He placed the coats in the closet nearby before going to the living room, as well.

Already his parents were greeting the Miyake Family, but he could tell that the evening wouldn't be as festive as he had anticipated, due to the lack of a pink-to-blonde-haired girl.

* * *

"Can we please visit her?" He asked his father and mother, the following morning. They were all seated in the family dining room and eating their breakfast which had been prepared, a few moments ago, by the kitchen staff. (His mother only let the staff go for a single day). He chewed his eggs and drank some water before continuing to speak. "Miyake-san is very ill, and I would not only like to see if she is feeling any better, but would also like to deliver her holiday gift, face-to-face." He felt like he was making a compelling argument, but with his father and mother, nothing was ever guaranteed to work.

"You have taken quite the interest in this girl, Ikuto." His mother said as she ate her pancakes. "Why is that?"

"She is my companion." Ikuto responded without a moment's hesitation. He refused to let his mother see just how much he cared for Aimi. He was certain that his family would do something to take her away from him, just so that he could no longer feel any happiness in his life. It was sad, but true. "I see nothing wrong with worrying over a comrade."

"I never said that there was anything wrong with it, I was just curious. She seems to have weaved her way quite nicely into your life…" His mother paused to take a sip from her gold-banded champagne glass, filled with ice-cold water and ice. "I wonder if she has an angle…"

He could feel his cheeks burn as he dug into the small piece of meat that was on his plate. There was almost one of every food group there, because his parents highly believed in a balanced diet. He couldn't believe what his mother had just said.

Actually, he could.

His mother had always been a paranoid woman, and couldn't believe that someone would like her or any member of their family, unless they were trying to get at their wealth. He wasn't exactly sure where this paranoia began, but he didn't care, either. He was just upset that she was accusing Aimi — his _best friend_ Aimi — of being a gold digger of all things!

She was seven-years-old!

He hardly believed that she had the mentality or sinful heart to want nothing but his money. He didn't even _have_ anything. If she truly wanted money, she would try to become friends with his father — she's shown no interest in the older male.

It was a sick thing to think of; that a little girl would try to get with an older man just because she wanted his fortune. And Aimi was too sweet and oblivious to the world around her to even _think_ about something like that. What his mother was saying about his friend, disgusted him, and he wanted nothing more than to knock some sense into the woman. She was obviously going through some mental problems if she believed that to be the reason behind his close bond with Aimi.

He began to snuff out the flame of anger within him as he tried his best to respond to his mother in a way that wouldn't come-off as rude or talking back to her.

"I think she just wants to be my friend… That is what she said to me the first day we met." He responded. He would admit that he was nervous over how she would respond to his statement. From the corner of his eye, he could see the way Utau looked at him from her seat at the table, on her extra high, padded chair. She was nervous for him; he could see it. But even if his mother disapproved of his comment, he wouldn't take it back.

He would defend Aimi as long as he had to…

"Hm… I suppose so — still, it has never been a bad thing to protect yourself; _especially_ against people whom you have only known for around a year…" She said. Her face was formal, but he knew that she was unpleasant over his comment.

He exhaled lowly and decided to grasp the nerve to bring the conversation back to its original topic.

"May we visit her, then?" He asked.

There were a few moments of silence between the question and the response. When none came after the expected time frame, Ikuto took that as a _no_ and held back the frown that wanted to appear on his face.

He finished his breakfast in the tense atmosphere of the dining room table, and then excused himself when he had finished eating. A worker got his dishes, and he was well on his way to exiting the room when his father called-out to him. He paused his motions entirely, and turned to his father.

(He was surprised by the fact that he recognized his father's voice; it'd been a while since the two last spoke).

"Prepare. We will go visit them this afternoon."

"Thank you, Father." He said lowly. He then turned around, left the room, and couldn't hide the happiness and excitement that was swelling inside of him.

He would finally get to see Aimi.

* * *

She was most definitely ill.

And it was such a sad sight.

Her long pink and blonde hair was sprawled on the bed like an extra blanket beneath her, and he was certain that she was uncomfortable because of it. Her face was red and sweaty, and she looked to be having problems breathing.

It made his heart wrench at the sight of her weak, sick state. He'd never seen Aimi like this before. She looked… close to death and the thought of her dying was just… just…

He couldn't _bear_ with it.

"Ikuto-kun…" She said softly, weakly. She tried to pull her pale lips back into a smile, but he could tell that she didn't exactly have the strength to do so. He wanted to stop her will to smile, but Aimi was a stubborn girl and he knew that she'd refuse to not smile at him. "Hi. I-I'm so glad to see you…"

"Aimi-chan…" He said softly. "You… um…" He was unsure of what to say. Seeing his uncomfortable state, Aimi raised a hand to her mouth as she laughed. It wasn't as if she needed to cover her mouth in front of him; her parents had already given him a mask to wear over his mouth and nose so that it would be difficult to catch her flu…

"Yeah. I know — I'm sick." She said; trying to smile warmly at him, and not coming-up short. "It sucks. I really wanted to spend Christmas with you…" There was a small tint of red on her cheeks, but whether it was because of her statement or flu, was hard to decipher.

"Same here." He said. " But… that doesn't mean that you still can't enjoy it. I brought you your gift." He said.

Her eyes widened.

"My gift?" She asked. "You actually brought me a gift?" Her eyes were filled with happiness and wonder as he nodded his head, and reached down to grasp the large red box that he had snuck into her room. He was glad that it was only the two of them, because it made his delivering of her present, all the more special. Aimi's eyes quickly scanned the large cube, with graphic red wrapping paper, and a gold ribbon wrapped around it, with a pretty gold bow on top. It was the most extravagant gift box that she'd ever seen. "Wow…" She whispered.

"Do you want to open it?" He asked. "Or… maybe, do you want _me_ to open it and show it to you?" He was eager to get her to see what he had gotten her. It was very important and special to him because it was the first time they'd ever exchanged gifts since Aimi's birthday wasn't for another few days, and his had already passed. So this gift was _very_ special.

"Mm… maybe later. I wanna talk some more, first." She said; pausing to cover her mouth with a white handkerchief that lay beside her on the bed, as a serious of violent coughs racked her body. An odd noise appeared from her mouth, a few moments later, before Aimi closed the handkerchief, wiped her mouth with a set of tissues that were also beside her on the bed, and placed everything to the side. Ikuto's eyes honed-in on a red spot that was left on her pale lips.

"Aimi-chan, did you bite your lip?" He asked her.

"Huh? Why would you ask me that?" Aimi asked him.

"There's blood on your bottom lip." He said. Her eyes widened as she grabbed a new tissue and wiped it away. She then threw it into the wastebasket that was beside the bed, and gave him a smile.

"My lips are really frail, now… I haven't eaten much in the past few days…" She said.

"Hm…" He said. "Did you have something to eat, now?" He asked. When she shook her head _no_, he got up from the seat that had been placed inside her girly room, just for him, and headed towards the door.

"Where are you going?" She asked him.

"To get you some breakfast."

* * *

He visited her house every day, sometimes supervised and other times by himself, as he continued to take care of her. He made sure that she ate, and was recovering at a healthy pace. But while it didn't seem that Aimi's illness would go away anytime soon, he didn't mind caring for her and trying his hardest to help her get better, faster.

When over two weeks had passed and she still showed no signs of getting better, and with her birthday closing-in, Ikuto decided that he wouldn't allow her to miss such an important day. He opted at making her a small, surprise birthday party.

This included not only a small gift, but also some cake and ice-cream. Just for the two of them.

It was something he'd never been compelled to do before, not even for Utau, but something was driving him to do all these sorts of things for Aimi. He was highly unsure of just _what_ it was, but he didn't believe that it would lead to anything bad, so he let the feeling be and just followed it.

He spent the better half of the day of Aimi's birthday, preparing the cake. He made sure to do this in privacy and with the help of his family's chef, because he was certain that his mother would disapprove of what he was doing for his best friend. _She'd probably say that Aimi was getting just what she wanted from me doing this for her_, he thought as he followed the chef's instructions and continued to ice the cake.

It was her favorite: half chocolate and vanilla with strawberry ice-cream on top. He had decorated it in all-purple frosting that tasted a little like ice-cream, and with pink piping gel to spell out: _Happy Eighth Birthday Aimi!_

When he was done, he inspected the three-layer cake with the fancy girly decorations on it. The chef had been more-than-happy to aide him in his task, and was even nice enough to add some very beautiful, feminine decorations to it that he knew Aimi would enjoy; the little girl was obsessed with animals, and the paw-print and animal design on the cake was _just right_ for her. He couldn't wait to see her face once she saw the lizard that wrapped around the cake. (She oddly liked lizards more than dogs, to the point where she had a pet lizard in her room).

It was a more-than-satisfying cake, but he was nervous about what Aimi would think of it. It was odd, he thought as he packed the cake and other utensils, and began to place them inside the car that would take him to Aimi's house, on his own, before his parents saw what he had been up to, that he was going through such lengths for a girl that he had just met about a year ago.

Never in his mind would he have thought that his relationship with Aimi would grow into such a level; never would he have imagined that he'd ever have a friend that he'd go so far for, just so that _she_ could be happy.

(He always thought that his first, real friend would be male, but that didn't mean he disliked the fact that it was female).

But as out-of-his-comfort-zone that it was, he knew that it was still a very nice gesture, and that Aimi deserved it since she'd been getting worse each and every day that passed. She barely ate a piece of sushi before she threw it up, and coughed blood.

With everything in the car, he got his coat, said goodbye to his parents, and allowed the chauffeur to take him to Aimi's house. On his way there, he grasped onto the strings that were tied tightly around the box that had Aimi's cake in it, harshly, so that it wouldn't fall or anything.

When he finally reached her house, his stomach was fluttering with nervousness. He gulped as he got out of the car, and made his way to her front door. He knocked, and her mother greeted him a few moments later with a smile on her face — her facial expression then shifted into one of curiosity as she caught sight of the white box in his hands, and looked back up at him.

"Hello Ikuto." She said to him with a sweet smile.

"Hello Miyake-san." He responded. "May I please come in?"

"Of course." She said as she opened the door wider for him, and he entered her abode. "I must ask: what is it that you have there, Ikuto?" She asked him.

"It's a gift for Aimi-san." He said. And because he was bold enough to do so, he said to her, "I baked her a cake."

"Oh! That's so _sweet_!" Mrs. Miyake exclaimed as she looked down at the adorable little boy. Ikuto tried his hardest not to blush, and was glad that his coat momentarily hid his face as he began to take it off. "That's a very nice gesture, Ikuto. I'm sure Aimi will _love it_ — did you bake it on your own?" She asked as she took his coat and scarf, and began to put them away.

"Not necessarily. I had the house chef's help." He stated honestly; a part of him wanting to say that he did it all his own, so that Aimi would be even more impressed by it. But he wasn't one to plagiarize. "Would you like to see it?"

Mrs. Miyake nodded her head and looked into the white box after Ikuto opened it. She was happily surprised to see a beautifully-decorated, purple-iced cake with a spectacular green lizard design crawling on the sides of it, and an adorable message written on the top. She smiled down at it; her heart filling with joy at the fact that Ikuto had done such a thing.

"It's beautiful." She said softly. "I know Aimi will eat it up." Mrs. Miyake stated with a sense of security in her voice that Ikuto _hoped_ was the truth.

"That's what I'm hoping for." He said as he closed the box. "Is she feeling better? Do I still need a mask?" He asked her.

She made sure not to show the sadness that the question created. "Yes. You should wear a mask, and make sure that you don't get too close to her; I don't want you catching that cold and your mother chopping my head off." She laughed at this statement, but a part of him said that that's _exactly_ what his mother would do — that and never allow him to see Aimi, ever again, and he _did not_ want that.

"Okay." He simply responded.

He took the face mask that she gave him, and then made sure that his hands and everything were washed before he headed up the stairs to the second floor, and knocked on Aimi's room.

He expected a weak, _"Come in,"_ but instead got a dog's barking. The deep sound told him it was Arata.

"Arata, it's me." He said. The door opened a while later, and Ikuto saw that Arata was seated on the foot of Aimi's bed. There was a string in his mouth that was attached to the door, which he surely used to pull it open. It seemed like not even Arata wanted to leave Aimi's side.

Entering, he closed the door behind him and hesitated for a moment at seeing her. Every time he saw her, growing weaker and weaker, he could feel his heart break.

This time, when he turned to see her, he didn't think he would have any heart left with the way it was crushed into dust.

Aimi was hooked-up to an oxygen tank with a mask over her mouth. Her chest was heaving harshly as she struggled to breathe. It killed him to see her like that; and he almost dropped her birthday cake on the floor as his breath was taken away from him in the worst way possible.

"Aimi…" He muttered.

Aimi opened her eyes — they lacked that life and sunshine that he had grown so used to seeing in them, for the past year, that he had somewhat neglected their beauty. He always thought that Aimi would remain that bright, beautiful girl. But now… now he could literally see the life being sucked from her golden orbs, as they were the dullest shade of yellow that he'd ever seen in his lifetime.

She tried to smile, and he shook his head. His fingers tightened deeper around the string that he used to carry the box, and his nails dug into the palm of his hand.

"Don't…" He muttered softly. "Don' t try to smile, please."

"I—"

"No! _Don't try to speak either_." His tone was demanding and harsh, and it was the first time he'd ever spoken to her like that — ever! And it left a bad taste in his mouth. He shouldn't be so mean to her; especially when she looked to be on her death bed… "I'm sorry, just… just…"

He couldn't speak.

His voice was clogged in his throat.

How was he to react to this sight of her? He had come here expecting the best and he got… he got… He honestly couldn't believe that the frail, weak little thing that he was looking at in the bed was Aimi… No. It couldn't be.

That girl with the dull colorful hair, lifeless gold eyes, and stick-like body was _not _Aimi. Not _his _Aimi…

"Ikuto…kun…"

"No! Stop talking!" He shouted at her. He didn't want her to waste her energy for something as dumb as talking. She needed her strength. _Did she not see what she looked like_?! She looked like a _ghost_ that had taken on a human body.

She looked… she looked…

He was about to cry. He could sense it. But he held himself back. He _refused_ to cry. He had to be strong for the both of them — he had to show her that he still held the hope in his heart that she would get better…

"I brought cake." He said, changing the topic. "It's your favorite. I figured that since today was your birthday, you could eat it, and you and I can have a small birthday party — just the two of us." He stated as he went over to her bedside table (the one where the oxygen tank wasn't), and began to open the box. He paused, and looked deeply into her weak eyes.

"Happy birthday." He said. And because something compelled him to do so, he lowered the mask from his face. Her eyes widened as she did this. But he avoided this as he placed his mouth on her forehead, and gave her a kiss.

His heart thumped, and he hoped that Aimi's did so as well.

She smiled up at him, and then he pulled back and placed the mask back over his mouth. She then mouthed words that made his heart skip a beat: _I love you_. A blush tinting her face, and somewhat bringing back some of its original color.

_I love you_, he repeated in his mind. The words made something within him explode as millions of butterflies invaded his stomach, and a happy feeling began to wrap around his heart. He had no clue why this was happening, this happy feeling that was suddenly taking control of his body. It made his throat dry and he had to gulp down saliva about three times.

_I love you_.

Those three syllables kept repeating themselves in his mind, and he wasn't sure _what_ he should do. Should he say them back to her? He wasn't sure if he could do that — his throat grew more dry as the words sunk deeper into his mind.

_I love you_.

_Say something, _he said to himself. And because he was still blank when it came to a response, he cleared his throat, turned back around to the cake, and said: "Do you want a big piece, or a little piece? There's a flower — do you want that?"

* * *

He felt like an idiot, later that night.

_I should've said it back. _He thought as he once again rolled onto his side. He was on his bed, ready to fall asleep, but that day's earlier events kept racing in his mind. _I should've said it back — it wouldn't have killed me._

He felt bad.

He should've said it back. How hard was it to say, _I love you, too_? Apparently, it was harder than telling his mother that the drapes she bought didn't fit with the motif of the living room, something that was nearly a death sentence.

He should've said it back. He should've said _something_ back that didn't revolve around the cake.

But it was difficult for him to say something emotional, because he had never been in-tune with his emotions. He grew-up learning that emotions were the enemy and should always be hidden. How could Aimi have expected him to reply something back that held emotions behind it?

She couldn't, and a part of him said that she didn't. The way she smiled at his response told him that she didn't expect him to be emotional, but that upset him.

_Does she really think so lowly of me? That I'm incapable of being… emotional? _The thought hurt his heart. To have Aimi think that he was some sort of robot that couldn't show her any affection… he was unsure of why it tore him up from the inside, but it did. Like a hot knife slashing through his flesh while burning it at the same time.

He turned onto his back, once again, and decided that he ought to fall asleep, so that he could go back to her house, early the next day. He fluffed his pillow, raised his blanket to his shoulder, and laid his head against it.

He wasn't even able to close his eyes when there was a knock at his door. "Come in." He stated.

To his surprise, it was his father. He immediately sat up on his bed and removed the sheets from his body. For a moment he wished that he hadn't chosen to wear the pajamas with dinosaurs on them, so that he could look more professional like his father wanted him to be, and less like a child.

"Yes Father?" He asked.

His father was never a man that beat around the bush. He was very assertive in his conversations, and could deliver the worst of news with such a stone-like voice that it was hard to decipher if he cared about the other person's emotions, or not.

Yet, that was not what he saw in his father, that night.

His father's eyes clearly showed a tint of sadness in them as he took a seat on his bed, and placed his hand on his back. Ikuto was frozen still for a moment as his body registered the foreign contact. How long had it been since his father touched him? Hugged him? Patted his back? Gave him a high-five?

_Have any of these things even been done __once_?

"Ikuto…" His voice soft and heavy, he looked at him straight in their matching blue eyes. Ikuto's heart pounded. What was going on? What was his father about to say to him? "Aimi—"

He didn't hear anything else after that.

All he could hear was the world shattering before his eyes as it broke like glass and rained down on him.

_No…_

* * *

_Aimi had caught a case of Pulmonary Anthrax a few days before, and died on that night — the day of her birthday. Her respiratory system gave-in a few hours after he had left her home, and his father had been thinking of the right time to tell him, despite it being out-of-character to __wait__._

_He knew how Ikuto felt about Aimi. He could very much see it in the way the child grew defensive whenever his wife spoke badly of the little girl. And while he and his son did not have a positive relationship, he was still his son, and he had to treat certain situations as fragile as it was. Ikuto was still so young…_

_Since that moment, Ikuto was left a shell of the boy he could've become. Without Aimi there to push him forward into doing things that normal children would, he slowly fell back into the routine that his parents approved of, and no longer went out._

_But he never forgot of the moments he shared with Aimi, and craved to be with her, again. He wanted that light back in his life — he hated the cold, frightening darkness that was slowly consuming him. He could feel his mentality slipping each and every day, as he went longer and longer without that necessary positive force in his life._

_And just as he thought that he was going to permanently fall into the black hole, he met a little girl who had that same light. And another… and another… it wasn't long before his mind concluded that only little girls could be that brightly burning candle, and his body began to search for one that not only resembled Aimi in some way, somehow, but could also pull him from the abysses of his family lifestyle._

_That was all he craved — a little girl with __light__ and __life__._

* * *

.

.

.

* * *

I thought this would be 10,000 words, but I guess over 11,000 isn't that much… I fit in everything that I wanted, without it being too much. I just hope the ending was alright. I tried to explain it as best as I could, but I feel like I failed at it. *sigh* I'll go back to it, eventually, and perfect it. Until that time, I want to know what you all thought of this chapter. It is very important because it shows just what Ikuto's _disease _is, and how it started.

Yes, he is a pedophile. But not in a way where he wants little girls because he's attracted to them, but because he was scarred by Aimi's premature death and wants to find a little girl who could be his new Aimi, forever and ever. He wants someone who not only looks like her, but can make him feel normal. Amu, currently, is this female because she is able to get a reaction from him, and she has the pink hair that resembles Aimi.

*Note: Aimi is an OC of mine that I use in my other stories, as well as my personal original story. This _is_ her natural appearance, so it's not like I created a whole new character just to fit the role of the girl whom was Ikuto's childhood love and led to his obsession. Thank goodness I already had her…

Next chapter: The aftermath of Ikuto's first meeting with Amu. How will he react to her? And why, oh why, does Amu hate him so much? Glimpses into Amu's past!

Please review and thank you for reading!

Xoxoxo Chibi Star Vamp


End file.
